


Hunter's Moon

by unadulteratedsedation



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedsedation/pseuds/unadulteratedsedation
Summary: Alex Argent is the younger sister of Allison, she is also the only one of the two sisters who has been trained to join the family business. The hunt is her life and has been for many years. She has worked tirelessly to rise in the ranks and prove herself worthy of the Argent name, she's also worked hard to keep the biggest parts of her life a secret from her sister. Her family's relocation to Beacon Hills and her introduction to Scott McCall and his pack begin to threaten her entire view on the supernatural. Alex Argent soon begins to realize, through bonds of friendship and pack, that she has been a victim of circumstance. Though, she simply tolerates the boy with the whiskey eyes and freckles who can't seem to stand upright when she's around.
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Part One: Argent

She shouldn't have been surprised that a mere six hours after moving into their new house, and only two hours after crawling into her bed, she was being dragged out of it. Alex was exhausted, she was always exhausted. 

"Duty calls." Her father whispered, not a loving wake up call whispered with paternal kindness. It was a low hiss, urgent and demanding. He kept his voice low so as not to wake Allison, asleep peacefully in the next room.

It was nights like these that she envied her sister's ignorance. Nights where Alex dragged her aching and abused body from her bed, nights where she was so desperate for sleep that she could have wept. Nights where Allison got a full eight hours of uninterrupted slumber and never gave a second thought to why their family had over 650 guns in their garage. 

There was no use dwelling on that now, her father was right, duty called.

Her dad left her room, predictably heading to the garage where she would meet him in no less than ten minutes. The door closed with a soft click, bathing her darkness again. 

She shuffled to the light switch and flicked it on, cringing at the harsh effect the bare light fixture had behind her eyes. She blinked away a few white spots and plaited her long blonde hair - like she always did. It was unusual for female hunters to maintain the more feminine hairstyle, they opted to cut it short for convenience. Alex took her responsibility to her family very seriously, but one thing she could not bare to part with was her long locks. Even on nights like these where her exhaustion crept into her bones so heavily that moving her hands to braid her hair felt physically taxing. She slipped on the black yoga pants and matching black top she kept in her top drawer, readily available for instances like this.

She crept quietly through her house, nodding at her mother who watched her silently from an arm chair in the darkness of the living room.

She punched in the code to the garage door and stepped through taking immediate inventory of her team for the night.

Her father, of course, strapping a bow and arrow to his back. He looked solemn, as he always did before a hunt. Sometimes she wondered idly to herself, that if he had a choice, would he be doing this at all? She knew the answer. No. 

He didn't love it like her mother did.

There were two other men gearing up. Jonathon, a loyal confidant of her fathers who had followed them to Beacon Hills from Washington. He was incredibly handsome with his dark skin and soulful eyes, eyes she found herself staring into more than once since his friendship with her family had begun. She'd seen him looking back on occasion with something akin to potential in his gaze, but the point was moot. 

They were hunters and connection was weakness.

The third man was someone she didn't recognize, but she knew her father had connections around the globe, so she didn't think twice about it. He was older and rugged, and judging by the way he was handling the sword in his grasp, experienced. Alex knew her father wouldn't introduce them until the third time they hunted together, an unspoken tradition in their line of work. What was the point of meaningless introductions when most barely survived the first day on the job? Hunters didn't waste time with pleasantries.

Alex laced up her combat boots and holstered six throwing knives to her body. One at her ankle, one on each thigh, and one on each hip. The sixth she kept in her hand to play with in the car. A nervous habit she had developed over the years, but if anyone asked, it simply helped her focus.

She covered up her torso holster with her trademark leather jacket and took her spot in the passenger seat of her families black sports utility vehicle.

The ride was quiet, which was not unusual, except for the last five minutes where her father would go over the plan that everyone already knew to a 't'. It was life or death out there on a full moon, a fact that they had all learned the hard way.

"Stick to the trees." Her dad reiterated, "No kill shots."

Another part of The Code; trap the shapeshifter, deliberate with your team the best course of action, kill it. 'Deliberating with your team' was a formality. The decision was always to kill it.

The SUV stopped at the entrance to the preservation, her dad killed the lights and they all drew a collective breath before slipping out of the car and going their separate ways.

The cold September air crept through her clothes, chilling her. She drew her jacket tighter across her chest and tried not to think about how she could see her breath curling around in the air as it left her lungs.

The preserve was dark, the only light coming from the full moon. It hit the towering trees and cast menacing shadows on the forest floor. Her head snapped up when she heard a great howl coming from, as far as she could tell, three kilometres away. Her feet moved at a sprint, pushing harder when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

She burst through the clearing, immediately noticing her whole team closing in on a figure with glowing eyes that leapt at an impossible height over fallen trees.

Running away, she thought, this one didn't want a fight.

Her knife was poised in her hand, ready to throw, but she hesitated as the whizzing of an arrow was heard overhead. She heard the thump as it missed its target and lodged itself deep in a tree. Her father had missed, but she would not.

Her knife left her hand. Steadfast and true. It hurdled through the air, a more menacing sound than her fathers arrow. A more satisfying thump as it embedded itself into a tree, but not before tearing through the werewolf's wrist and pinning the beast to the tree.

Her father, only a few feet in front of her, looked back briefly with pride glinting clearly in his eyes. 

The team advanced on the shifter, watching it struggle to escape. A few pathetic whines tore out of its throat and Alex barely winced. It was hard to forget that they used to be human when they made noises like that. Like a crying child.

Suddenly, Jonathon was thrown from beside her. His surprised gasp sliced through the air in striking similarity with his body, which landed a few meters away in a crumpled heap. The older man was next, upended by a powerful force and thrown harshly against a tree. The horrifying sound of his spine splintering in half cracked through the air like damp lightening.

Dead.

In all the commotion, Alex had taken her eyes off the target and when she snapped her focus back to where she had pinned the young werewolf, it was gone.

"Fuck." She swore under her breath, taking a moment to close her eyes in a brief respite. 

"There were two." Her father concluded, his voice shocking her. He'd come to stand beside her and Alex had interpreted the intrusion of her personal space as a threat. They stood staring at each other for a brief moment with Alex's dagger position just under his jugular. He swallowed and the sharp tip drew a small drop of blood. She smiled widely at him and holstered her weapon. "Never sneak up on an Argent." He said with a rare and genuine smile.

Jonathon limped over to them, gun at the ready, and questioned breathlessly, "Two beta's?"

"Looks like it." Answered her father, a crease in his forehead. It deepened as his eyes scanned over their fallen comrades corpse.

"It killed Gatlin." Jonathon said, morose. They must have been friends. "I'll bury the body."

"Perks of the job." Alex quipped, morbid. "I'll help."

Jonathon nodded at her, grateful.

"No." Her father demanded, hand on her shoulder, "You need to get some sleep. You have your first day of school tomorrow."

Alex rolled her eyes, hoping Chris would see them even in the dark of night. She rolled a silver tipped throwing knife expertly between her fingers, "I'd rather dig a grave."

"Alex," Her father said, a warning. "Car. Now."

"Yeah, yeah." She placated, hands on her hips. "Let me grab my knife."

Alex jogged lightly to the tree where she'd trapped the werewolf and where her knife had been pulled from its flesh and dropped to the ground. At the tip of the blade, the red blood bubbled, sizzling where it came in contact with the silver tip. She grabbed the blade and walked back to her father, a wry smile on her face, "At least it'll be in some pain for a day or two." She wiped the blade clean on her pants, and wiggled the sliver tip at him. "Small victories."

She followed her father back to the car, where he quickly peeled out of the Preserve.

"You did well tonight." Her father praised, eyes never leaving the road.

"When do I not?" She replied, haughtily. A smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want you to take the lead on the next hunt." He said, eyes serious.

"I'm assuming you haven't run that genius idea by mother." Alex said icily, her mood souring at the mention of her mother. She focused on staring out the window at the unfamiliar roads. Another new place she'd have to acclimate to.

"No, I haven't-"

"Because that is Allison's place." She finished for him, "Not mine."

"I know it's difficult." He sighed, his shoulders dropping from their tight posture, but only slightly.

"Difficult is moving from city to city and having to figure out where homeroom is," She said narrowing her eyes at the road in front of her, "Not being able to have a proper relationship with my sister is not difficult, it's excruciating."

Chris Argent was intelligent enough not to push his daughter on this particular subject. It was a sore spot for the entire family. They pulled into their driveway and rolled to a stop in the garage. They took off their gear in silence and Chris looked at his daughter, wishing there was something he could say, but she was stripped of her weapons and pushing open the garage door before he could think of anything. He was surprised to see her poke her head back through the door.

"I can't take the lead. If I do, when you finally decide to tell Allison, I won't want to give it up." With those last words, she closed the garage door and crept through the hallways for the second time that night, leaving her father and Jonathon to their own devices. She nodded at her mother who had not moved an inch and finally dropped into bed.

She closed her eyes and hoped that the three hours of sleep she could get where as restful as eight.

.

"I'm going to drink the last cup of coffee if you don't get up!" Allison threatened, knocking loudly on Alex's door for the third time that morning.

Alex groaned unintelligibly, rolling over in her bed. When her tired brain registered the thought of a caffeine-free morning, she sat up pretty fast. She wiped her bleary eyes and looked down at her bedspread, it was tangled around her legs as though she'd been thrashing wildly in her sleep. She untangled herself and stood from her bed. "Don't you dare." She growled, at the door. 

She flung open her door and was met but the smiling face of her sister, looking radiant and fresh faced. The difference between them were glaringly obvious. Alex did stop to think about it before she flew by Allison shocked face and took off down the stairs. Allison let out a shout of surprise and followed Alex, hot on her heels.

By the time they reached the kitchen they were laughing wildly.

"Full pot?" Alex groaned, with a pointed glare in her sisters direction.

"Oops." Allison laughed, shrugging her shoulders with a sly smile. Then she looked her sister up and down. "Did you sleep in your jogging clothes?" Her sister asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah," Alex sing-songed, not missing a beat and swiping the buttered toast out of her sisters hands with a mischievous smile, "So what?" She arched her brow and took a huge bite of toast, "Yum."

"You, are awful." Allison laughed and then added seriously, "and fast."

"You forgot beautiful and perfect."

"Right, yeah." Allison mocked, putting two new slices of bed into the toaster, "Except, the downright scary bags under your eyes." Allison turned to face her sister head on, "I came to your room last night - you weren't there."

Alex stiffened, "Couldn't sleep." She shrugged with a fake smile, "I went downstairs to watch stupid informercials, you know how those put me out." Another lie.

"Explains why you look like a crackhead." Allison laughed, until a rogue piece of toast hit her dead in the forehead and her smile melted into a glare.

"So, concealer?" Alex said, a lilt of practiced innocence lacing her words.

"Our bathroom, top drawer." Allison answered while wiping butter out of her eyebrow, "Meet me in the car in twenty, or I'm leaving without you."

"Just enough time to paint on my mask." She deadpanned, taking the steps two at a time. She took off the clothes she slept in, glad Allison hadn't seen the dried blood on the right thigh where she had wiped her knife clean.

Alex chose a pair of grey tights, light pink dress and her leather jacket to wear. She regarded herself in the mirror after caking concealer under her eyes and wondered if she looked like someone who killed supernatural creatures as a part-time job. She slipped on her high heeled black boots and laughed.

"Definitely not."

Allison was waiting in the car for her when she stepped out the front door. Neither their mom or dad had come down to say goodbye so Allison had decided to take the sports car. Alex nodded her approval at the rebellious choice.

"Pretty with just the right amount of 'I don't give a ...'" Allison said, looking her sister up and down, trailing off due to her aversion to swearing.

"We both look hot," Alex concluded, sliding in the car, "So, let's go make this school our bitch."

.

The principal had asked the two sisters to wait outside while he got their paperwork in order. Allison took a phone call from their father while Alex had gotten up to survey the schools grounds; access point, exits, security cameras. She'd walked the perimeter and was rounding the corner back to the front of the school when she saw the principal had come back out to collect them. She plastered on a fake smile, the one meant to appease and placate authority figures and walked purposefully towards them.

"There she is." Exclaimed Allison, her eyes wary.

"Sorry," Alex shrugged, "Just getting a feel for the place."

The girls followed the principal into the building, "How did you like it?" He asked Alex. His posture was too stiff and he looked like was trying to appear more important than he was.

"You have a lovely school." Alex said, rolling her eyes at the back of his head and receiving a warning glare from Allison.

"It is, isn't it." The principal said, proud, unaware of Alex trying to hold in a mocking snort. "Well, here we are, your homeroom, I think you two will appreciate that we kept the both of you together. Here at Beacon Hills we believe in student and teacher partnership, as opposed to a dictatorship. You'll come to find that we deeply care about our students here."

"Oh, yes sir." Alex said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm at this point. It seemed unprofessional to liken a student and teacher dynamic to a partnership. Alex wondered if he knew how obtuse he sounded.

"You pleasant young ladies will fit right in." The principal opened the door and handed some paperwork to the teacher and walked out without a parting word or glance.

"Welcoming." Snarked Alex. "Almost, too welcoming."

Allison fixed her with another glare, and looked around the classroom they had entered to make sure no one had heard her.

The class didn't bother to hide their stares while the teacher sifted through their paperwork. They were no strangers to this, so Alex stared right back, a hand on her hip, while Allison stared at the floor, trying to hide the colour in her cheeks.

"Class, welcome our new students, Alex and Allison Argent." He stuttered with the alliteration, as everyone did and continued, "Please make them feel welcome."

Allison led the way to the two empty seats near the back. As they approached she noticed a boy with brown eyes and dotted with freckles staring at her like she was naked. Alex frowned at him and stuck her tongue out for good measure.

"Stiles!" The boy beside him chided, "Jaw. Off. Floor."

The freckled boy obviously didn't hear him because he jumped out of his chair, catching his leg on the desk and falling directly at her feet.

"You can have my seat!" He said breathlessly from the floor and gesturing to his now unoccupied chair. A few of his classmates laughed including the boy beside him with the dark hair and uneven jaw. 

"This one is fine, thanks." Alex said, looking down at him and eventually taking a wide step over his sprawled out body.

"You're welcome." He squeaked out with a humorously high pitched intake of breath as he got a clear view up her skirt.

The boy picked himself up off the ground with extremely spastic arm movements, smiled and nodded at no one in particular, sat down and muttered, "Nailed it."

Alex turned to face her sister and roll her eyes but Allison's attention was on the boy sitting in front of her, the friend of the spastic one, he was smiling and holding out a pen to her. She was smiling and accepting. A perfectly innocent meet cute, except the knife sized wound on his wrist, angry, red and rimmed in silver. After Allison took the pen, he pulled his hand back towards his desk and pulled his sleeve down his forearm.

"Motherfucker." She let out at a loud whisper. Too loud, as the whole class turned to face her, including the teacher. "Uh, freedom of speech?" She shrugged, feigning apologetic.

The teacher simply shook his head and returned his attention to his desk.


	2. Part Two: Lacrosse

Alex had never been fond of school. Beacon Hills High just made it official.

She usually tried to fly under the radar at new schools - let Allison make the friends and join the clubs. Alex didn’t have an abundance of free time to dedicate to extracurriculars, study groups, or making friends. She was too busy saving their ungrateful asses on a weekly basis from terrifying shit they had no idea even existed.

It was a thankless job, what the Argent’s did. But she had resigned herself to that fact a long time ago. Now, more important things weighed on her mind. 

Like, for example, why an innocent little sophomore had a wound on his wrist rimmed in silver. 

More importantly, why that innocent little sophomore thought hitting on her sister was the best course of action. Taking into consideration, his extracurriculars - running around the woods at night and howling at the moon.

Alex was entertaining the notion that maybe her sleep deprived brain had conjured the image of a stab wound on her peer. She was, after all, running on two hours of sleep, with even less the night before. It wouldn’t be the first time that her mind had played tricks on her.

Besides, she thought, what kind of desperate Alpha would turn a 16 year old boy into a werewolf?

None that she had ever come across would ever stoop that low.

Alex had been watching him all day - in homeroom, English, lunch hour, and Chemistry. He definitely didn't look like much and he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, either. When the teacher would call on him in class all the muscles in his face relaxed, making him look like he’d suffered a lobotomy. He would sit there, blankly and wait until the teacher would shake their head and turn to someone else. 

All in all, Scott McCall seemed like an average teenage boy trying to navigate the tumultuous waters of high school.

She had made the decision during lunch period, watching him and his friend with the freckles talk animatedly over their chicken fingers. The conversation was about how Scott had never seen Star Wars and what an absolute travesty that was. 

He was a normal teenager, just so tragically normal that even her iron heart couldn’t get behind the idea of killing him. Never in all her years of hunting had she come across a Beta this young. It was cruel. She felt the stab of humanity pressing annoyingly against her ribcage - something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

With that, the decision was made. She was not going to tell her father about her suspicions, she drew the line at hunting someone who couldn't even buy beer.

She would watch him and his every move. Especially the ones involving Allison. 

Reconnaissance was never her favourite part of the job. It was too boring and there was never enough action, but this was an unusual case. It was going to require more than brute force and good aim - he would need to give her a reason to hunt and kill him.

.

The bell signalling the end of the day sounded and Alex walked quickly to Allison's locker, hoping to beat the rush of students dying to get home. Or whatever other dull pubescent things people her age did.

She was surprised to see Allison talking to, or cornered by, two students. One was a boy who looked suspiciously mature to be in high school and the other was a very attractive strawberry blonde haired girl. The girl held her hand possessively on the meatheads forearm.

" . . . Friday is family night." Allison said, looking pleadingly at Alex who stopped in front of the trio. "Right Alex?”

"Well, I fucking hope not." Alex said, leaning casually against the bank of lockers. She watched Allison’s face fall, looking decidedly disappointed that Alex hadn’t played along.

"My sister," Allison gestured to Alex with a casual flick of her hand, “Alex. Charming as always.”

"Well," Said the redhead, raising her eyebrows. Her gaze drifted up and down Alex’s body in a languid perusal. "Didn't you two win the genetic lottery? If I didn't already own this school, I think I'd be jealous.”

Allison laughed awkwardly and Alex stood there looking bored. She had met girls like this before. There was one at every school, without fail. Threatened and insecure by insignificant things, taking it out on people with inferior circumstance and usually lacking a loving and stable home-life.

Alex noticed that a couple of lockers down, the two boys from her homeroom, the werewolf and his boyfriend, were staring at them. When they met her eyes they both turned their heads swiftly, smacking their foreheads together with an audible thud. They were both wearing Lacrosse jerseys and she wondered how on Earth the two of them managed to fool someone into thinking they were coordinated enough to play sports. Alex rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Allison.

"I'm Lydia, and this," She looked adoringly at the boy beside her, "is Jackson, my super-hot, incredibly talented boyfriend.”

"Incredibly talented at what?" Alex asked without actually caring about the answer.

"Lacrosse, obviously." Jackson said, gesturing to his uniform. Alex immediately decided that she did not like Lydia’s boyfriend. Something about his eyes and the way he was leering at her was setting off alarm bells in her head.

"You two are coming to try-outs." Lydia demanded, "And the party on Friday. Ditch your family, this is the first party of the year. You can’t miss it.”

"I rarely do what I'm told," Drawled Alex, pulling herself off the lockers. "So, I'd rethink your approach.”

Lydia looked taken aback and Allison nudged her with her unusually bony elbow.

"You're sassy." Lydia declared after a moment of silence, "I like you." She grabbed Jackson's arm and turned to leave, "See you both at the field!”

"You know," Allison said after watching Lydia drag Jackson down the hall and out of sight. "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." She had a condescending look on her face, but a slight lilt to her the corner of her mouth. Allison was used to her sisters cold attitude and at this point in their lives seemed to find it more amusing than anything else.

"What do you think electric fly swatters are for?” Alex smiled wickedly.

"Oh, come on," Allison pleaded, "We only brought one car so you have to come watch, or at least walk me to the field.”

Alex knew what was coming. Allison's patented puppy dog face, the one she had perfected at four years old. Her eyebrows drooped and the corners of her mouth turned down just so. Then, the nail in the coffin - the fake tears started to well up. 

“Fine.” Alex huffed, pretending to look put out. The truth was that she was planning on going to the try-outs anyway, if Teen Wolf and his little freckled lackey were going to be there, then so was she. Alex just liked messing with Allison - what were sisters for, if not some mild frustration.

Allison smiled, taking her sisters arm and turning towards the door. Alex took a moment to look back to where the two boys had been standing only to find an empty hallway.

So much for watching his every move, she thought with an inward groan.

.

Alex very rarely felt overwhelmed, with her line of work feelings like that got you killed, but walking on to the lacrosse field was overwhelming. It seemed like every student had come to watch the try-outs and they were cheering wildly even though all of the players were sitting on the bench waiting to start. Everyone wore wide smiles and school colours, and some had even painted on their faces.

"They're literally cheering for nothing." Alex said, looking around, "You'd think we were at a Guns N Roses concert.”

"Jackson did say that lacrosse was kind of a big deal around here." Allison said, looking just as overwhelmed as her sister.

"Understatement of the year." Alex commented, looking around the crowed bleachers, trying not to look dazed. “It’s not even an actual game!”

"Oh, look!" Said Allison pointing into the crowd, "There's Lydia.”

Sure enough, there she was beckoning them over with a wide smile. Allison started to make her way up the bleachers, only looking back when she realized Alex hadn't moved. Allison regarded her sister with a quizzical brow.

"You go," Alex said nonchalantly, "I'll wait for you.”

"You sure?”

Alex glanced at Lydia pushing some girl out of her seat to make room for them, unapologetically.

“Definitely."

Alex made herself comfortable by leaning against the metal of the bleachers, she watched Allison and Lydia greet each other warmly and returned her attention to the field. 

It was time for some recon.

.

There were three things Alex was sure of halfway through try-outs: the freckled boy wasn’t good for anything other than warming the bench, Scott McCall was definitely a werewolf and Coach was a fucking asshole.

McCall was doing things on the field that were impossible for an Olympic athlete, let alone a teenage boy. He flew through the air with the agility of a wolf and seemed just as surprised as everyone else at what he could do.

The freckled boy was shouting at anyone who would listen that Scott was his best friend, jumping and cheering wildly, looking around at the screaming crowd, and catching Alex's eye. He stopped cheering to smile lopsidedly at her and in response she ducked around the bleachers and out of sight.

Alex drew in a long breath. Teenage wolf. On the lacrosse team. Looking longingly at her sister. Christ. She reached in her bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes that she rarely touched. Alex only indulged this habit when the anxiety of her life was threatening to steamroll her. She lit the tip and took a drag, breathing it out and putting a hand to her temple in a half assed attempt to massage away her headache.

"Uh, hey." Came a voice from beside her, "Rough day?" It was the freckled boy from her homeroom, teen wolfs best friend. He was looking at her with a hint of actual concern and it made her pause.

"Rough life." She replied, closing her eyes. She hoped he would take the hint and leave her alone. She didn’t want to talk to him, even though she knew it was probably in her best interest to get to know the wolfs best friend.

"Smoking kills, you know." He said following the statement with a cringe, seeming to instantly regret his words.

"Lots of things kill." She said dryly, looking at him sideways. He was dry of sweat from sitting on the bench all afternoon, his red lacrosse jersey perfectly pressed, brown eyes peering at her expectantly.

"You're cryptic." He stated with a wry smile, "I'm Stiles.”

"What the fuck kind of adjective is that?" She questioned, snuffing her smoke out on the heel of her boot.

"My name." He said, scratching the back of his neck, "I'm kind of waiting for yours.”

"Wow," She said turning to face him fully, he seemed surprised to have gained her full attention, "Nice parents." She said sarcastically. "I'm Alex.”

"Argent, yeah." He nodded, "We have homeroom together, I sort of fell at your feet.”

"Oh, I thought you were an area rug." She said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I get that a lot." He smiled, looking up into the bleachers, struggling for something to say to continue their conversation. "Your sister seems to be doing well, you know, fitting in.”

Alex looked up to where his gaze had landed on Allison and Lydia laughing and smiling in the crowd. Lydia was leaning in close, whispering something in Allison's ear that made her smile that dazzling carefree way Alex was foreign to.

"She always does.”

"You don't?" Asked Stiles, genuine curiosity in his eyes, "I, uh, not that I was watching you or anything, but I saw Lydia and Jackson talking to you too.”

"Not that you were watching," She snorted and continued, still watching Lydia. "Not the kind of company I like to keep.”

The jerk wad Coach blew his obnoxious whistle that saw far too much action, signalling the end of try-outs and Alex turned to walk away, anxious to get the hell out of there, go home and finally get some sleep.

"What kind of company do you like to keep?" Stiles asked quickly from behind her. When she turned back around to face him, he tried to lean casually against the metal bleachers. However, he miscalculated and fell sideways with his arm extended as though to lean. He hit the wet grass with a dull thud but managed to right himself in record time, with a slightly panicked expression, "I'm good.”

Alex couldn't help the smile that tugged on her mouth in spite of herself. She reached out to brush a piece of grass from his cheek and leaned in close, "I'm more of a lone wolf." She watched his expression change from surprised at her proximity, to fear and uncertainty at her choice of words. 

Alex didn't hesitate when she walked away this time, straight to Allison.

"Did you watch?" Allison asked, "Wasn't that exhilarating?" Allison's cheeks were flushed and her smile seemed permanent.

"Oh yeah," Alex said, words dripping in sarcasm, "Riveting. Watching teenage boys with anger issues hit each other with sticks. Exhilarating.”

Allison laughed as they walked down the front steps to their car. Alex immediately noticed their family's SUV parked right out front, her father sitting in the driver's side, a deep crease in his forehead.

Allison noticed him shortly after, asking, "Why is dad here?" She walked briskly to his car, smiling, "Hey dad! We were watching lacrosse try-outs, it was-“

"That's great, Sweetheart," He smiled, cutting her off. Alex knew where this was headed; SUV, black clothes, sombre expression. "But do you mind driving home alone, I need to borrow Alex for something.”

"Oh, yeah, sure. I don't mind." She said, a smile appearing on her face, it didn’t reach her eyes. She always did her best to try and hide it when this kind of thing happened, but Alex always knew just how hard her sister took it. It often came across to Allison that she was being left out, like their dad was picking favourites. Alex couldn’t blame her because that is exactly how it came across and she wished desperately that she could assuage her sisters jealousy.

Allison smiled sadly at her sister and turned around. Alex let out an irritable sigh and got into the car. She started rooting around in the duffle bag her father always packed for her, feeling around for her knives. She started assembling her holsters and fixed her father with a mild glare.

"You know she hates it when you do that.”

"We have bigger things to worry about." He said simply, peeling out of the high school.

She took a calming breath and realized that as much as she had tried to actualize getting sleep tonight, it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

Allison watched her father and sister drive away, letting the fake smile fall off her face and she stomped petulantly to her car. It was always those two, and she was always left behind. Left to fend for herself. She hated the way their heads bent together in the car, talking seriously and without pretence. She was never able to do that with him. She was always stuck with their mother, who quite frankly, scared the shit out of her.

In her haste to get home and maybe cry a little, she didn't realize that she was headed right into another student.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." She said, not looking up, dropping to her knees to pick up the contents of her fallen purse.

"It's okay." The student said, bending down to help her collect her things, she looked up to see that it was the cute boy from her homeroom, the one who had played wonderfully on the field. His awkward friend was beside him, the one whose name Lydia didn't know.

"I wasn't looking . . . " She trailed off, standing up and smiling at him.

He looked a little preoccupied with his thoughts when he asked, "Who was that?" Gesturing to the empty spot where her father had been idling.

"Oh, that's my dad." She said simply, looking at him with curiosity, "What's wrong?” She asked when he visibly paled.

"Oh, uh," He said, startled back into reality, "Nothing. I'm Scott.”

"Allison." She extended her hand.

"Stiles!" Said the boy, then looking between the two, still clasping hands, "Not that either of you care.”

"So," Scott continued, "Is it really family night on Friday?”

"No," She smiled, a cheeky look in her eye, "That was a lie.”

"So maybe I'll see you at that party?”

"Maybe." She said, and turned to walk to her car, smiling all the way home.

"Dude," Said Stiles, coming to stand beside Scott and slapping his shoulder in congratulations. “You just got a kind of date with a girl who is totally out of your league, why are you not more excited?”

"Because," Scott said, looking slightly green, "I think her father tried to kill me.”

"No fucking way." Said Stiles, whipping his hands around wildly, eyes widening at Scott. "Her dad was the one that stabbed you?"


	3. Part Three: Party of the Year

"Dude, I can't believe your luck." Stiles commented, stepping awkwardly over a fallen log as they wandered through the woods for the second time that week. "It sucks.”

"Dude," Growled Scott, eyes trained on the ground. "Shut up.”

"You can't seriously be thinking of going to that party with her?” Stiles continued, more focused on watching Scott’s reaction than actually looking for his inhaler.

"Stiles, just stop talking and help me look.”

"Are you absolutely sure it was her sister?" Stiles robbed further, ignoring his friends plea for silence.

Scott whirled around and fixed Stiles with a withering glare - his eyes flashed an inhuman colour and a low grumble came from his chest. "Who threw a dagger at me?" He asked rhetorically, "Yeah, Stiles, I'm pretty friggin' sure.”

"For some reason, that just makes her so much hotter." Stiles said, shaking his head incredulously, seemingly unfazed by Scott’s dangerous eyes. "Which hardly seems possible, due to the fact that she is a total smoke show." 

Stiles continued to ramble while putting in zero effort to help Scott find his inhaler. Scott was considering knocking him unconscious and maybe coming back for him in a few days when something caught his attention in his peripherals.

"Dude," Scott interrupted, squinting his eyes to see better. Stiles was ignoring him, rambling more about the more violent Argent sister. Scott’s newly improved vision sharped and he realized that he had seen a person and that person was watching them. “DUDE!"

Stiles looked up at Scott’s frenzied tone, his eyes darting back and forth from where Scott was - to what he was staring at. A figure dressed in black was steadily approaching them, the glare on the man’s face was deep and unrelenting. The man was unhappy, clearly and Stiles had no desire to stick around and find out why.

"This is private property.” He was in front of them, eyes narrowed. His leather jacket made an unpleasant noise when he came to a stop, almost like a painful whimper and Stiles tried desperately to push away that thought.

"Sorry," Said Scott, taking a tentative step backwards with his hands raised slightly in the air in a show of innocence, "We were just looking for something I lost.”

The man said nothing in response, but he lifted his right hand and tossed something to Scott with incredible speed. The object blurred in the air and landed in Scott’s palm with an audible thud. It was a sunny afternoon, the tree’s letting flickers of sunlight dance over the forest floor like water and Stiles had to do a double take, just to be sure the exchange hadn’t been a trick of the light.

Scott looked down in his outstretched hand, opening his fist to reveal his inhaler - much to his surprise. The task the two boys had set out on after school had been nearly impossible; a small inhaler dropped in the dead of night, in the vastness of the Preserve. They hadn’t had a chance in hell of actually finding it.

Neither of the boys were oblivious to think that it was mere coincidence.

When Scott looked up to thank the strange man, he was gone. 

Scott turned to Stiles with raised eyebrows, as if to confirm that had actually happened.

"That was Derek Hale." Stiles said, looking dazedly at the spot where the leather clad man had been occupying only moments ago.

"Who?" Scott asked, fingering the inhaler.

"How do you not-" Stiles cut himself off with a sigh and exaggerated eye roll, "Derek Hale." He said again, "His entire family burned to death in a fire a couple of years ago.”

"I am officially creeped out." Scott decided, pocketing his inhaler and turning around abruptly, "Let's get the hell out of here, we have a party to get to.”

Stiles had a displeased look on his face behind Scott's back, but dutifully followed his best friend anyway. Stiles had tried to convince Scott that going to a high school party on the night of a full moon was a profoundly bad idea but Scott only seemed to have one thing on his mind, Allison.

He was happy for Scott, but it wouldn’t help anyone to pretend that he hadn’t been bitten by a fucking werewolf. They had no idea what, if anything, was going to happen tonight and it was uncharacteristic of his best friend to knowingly put anyone in danger. His attitude change could be attributed to the lunar cycle according to the research he had already done.

If Scott was determined to go to this party and ‘get the girl’, then Stiles wasn’t going to let Scott out of his sight.

.

The party was in full swing when Allison arrived. The loud music pulsed from the large house she was parked in front of and students littered the front lawn, laughing and smoking. She watched with a slight cringe as two people stumbled drunkenly out of a hedge, adjusting their unbuttoned clothes and wiping at their mouths with glassy, satisfied eyes.

Allison had arrived alone, which had not been the original plan but Alex had texted her to say she was going to be late. She was angry that her sister hadn’t recognized how important it was to her that they come together. New schools were always hard, but having Alex around had made the constant change of address easier to bare.

Now Allison felt awkward, arriving alone and knowing know one beyond slight acquaintance with Lydia. She also felt irritated at her sister for ditching her to galavant around with their dad.

Stewing in her car wasn’t going to help anything, so she shook off her anger and faked a confident smile in the mirror. Once she had built up the courage she exited her car and walked purposefully up the gravel path and into the house.

Someone bumped into her shoulder, sending her careening into the wall. The person didn’t even look back to apologize before wandering away. Allison muttered a few choice words under her breath and cradled her sore wrist wondering idly if Scott was there yet. He was sure to make her night better.

She scanned the crowd and almost immediately found Stiles, his flailing arms and spectacularly bad rhythm were hard to miss. Allison smiled, figuring that she rarely saw Stiles without Scott, so it stood to reason that he must be around somewhere.

She took a step towards the makeshift dance floor and squeaked when a girl she vaguely recognized tripped over her own two feet and sloshed her drink all over Allison’s new shoes.

.

Stiles watched from his spot by the bar as Allison and Scott danced, or fornicated, on the dance floor. It could have been classified as either, really. Allison had looked slightly agitated before Scott had pulled her out onto the dance floor with a charmingly crooked smile. It looked like her mood had passed because she definitely didn’t look mad anymore.

Stiles knew he probably looked a little weird, watching his best friend and his crush this closely, but if Scott refused to listen to reason, Stiles was going to watch him like a hawk. Someone needed to think clearly, and it was easier for Stiles because the girl he had been pretending not to look for was no where in sight.

He pulled himself up from his casual lean against the bar in a haste when he saw Scott double over in what looked like pain. Stiles stumbled away from the bar and pushed his way through the throngs of grinding high schoolers while watching Scott clutch at his head, his eyes squeezed shut and grimace marring his face. Stiles glimpsed Scott tearing away from a very shocked looking Allison Argent.

Not good.

"Scott!" He called, relieved to see that he was coming this way. Scott pushed past him forcefully, causing Stiles to stumble. “Scott,” He tried again, “you okay?”

Stiles was met with the slam of the front door. "Shit." He exclaimed, downing his drink in one go and running after him. Out of the house, down the gravel driveway, and around the corner where the development ended and a sprawling grove of trees began. 

Stiles swore again when he saw Scott duck into the woods, nothing good ever happened in the woods as far as Stiles was concerned. At least, not lately.

When Stiles caught up with Scott, he was hunched over a large tree root, grabbing at his jaw and making some awful whimpering noises. "It's Derek!" Scott growled, definitely sounding less than human, "He's a werewolf. He's the one who bit me!”

Stiles tried to put a comforting arm on his friends shoulder but Scott whipped his head around and growled, canines bared and eyes a startling shade of yellow. "Holy fuck." Stiles let out, stepping backwards, and then composing himself, "Scott, breathe. Come on, just breathe.”

The pair were in the cover of the trees now, just beyond the street and the raging Party. They both stiffened when they heard the squeal of tires and saw the blinding glare of someone's high beams flickering between the trees, the effect disoriented Scott and he moaned low in throat. 

The slamming of two car doors in quick succession of each other had Stiles trying not to panic. "Scott, not to alarm you, but someone's coming." Scott looked alarmed. They shared a fleeting panicked look and both ducked lower behind the large tree, "Don't wolf out on me now, you need to relax.”

In response, Scott clutched harder at his head and moaned in pain, dropping to the forest floor with a dull thump. Stiles placed an unsure hand on his friends shoulder and found he was trembling violently. He looked up at the night sky, the full moon was nearly at its peak.

From their hiding place Stiles could see two figures examining the area, dressed in black leather. One had long blonde hair, pulled back into a tight braid - the tight lines of her body were instantly recognizable. Even the way she held herself, stalking around the woods was familiar to him. Though the thought was unhelpful, it still crossed his mind that perhaps he was even worse than Scott with his annoying infatuation. If he could place Alex in a dark forest, while his eyes were unfocused with anxiety - perhaps he might be bordering on obsession.

He’d been quietly watching her since her first day. He’d tell Scott that it was because they needed to know more about the mysterious blonde who had impaled him with a dagger - but in reality, there was something about her that Stiles found absolutely irresistible. There was a pain in her eyes that shone through in moments where she wasn’t aware she was being watched. A pain that shouldn’t be present in someone so young.

She was also the closest thing that he and Scott might have as an ally - though being hunted by her currently was something to take into consideration. She obviously knew about the supernatural while he and Scott were totally in over their heads. She was a beacon of knowledge and Stiles wanted to know everything about her.

"Shit." Stiles swore hands tapping uselessly against the bark of the tree as he peered around their hiding spot. Scott’s head had popped up to join him and he groaned upon seeing Alex, who had wandered a little too close for comfort.

"Alex." Said Scott, having gained some control back and then in a slightly whiny whisper, "I'm dead.”

"He came this way." Alex's voice rang out clearly in the quiet woods. She stepped lightly followed by her father, they way they were moving made them both look uncannily like predators.

"Are you sure?" Questioned her father, gun aimed ahead of him and into the dark.  
"No, dad." Alex said, her sarcasm evident even in the dark of the forest, "I imagined the quadruped with glowing eyes running out of a house party.”

Her father shushed her, "I hear something over there.”

"Go." She urged, moving to cover his exposed flank.

Scott and Stiles watched Mr. Argent take off between two trees and then disappear into the woods. Alex remained in the clearing, spinning some weird knife-like things in her hands. Stiles watched the light from the full moon gleam off of the blades as she manipulated them with her knuckles. Stiles watched the display with awed fascination until a completely different kind of glow caught his attention, just beyond Alex's shoulder. Two glowing blue orbs. 

Eyes.

Stiles moved to rise from his hiding spot to shout out a warning to Alex, but before he could and give up their hiding spot, he heard the unmistakable sound of her laughter tinkling across the clearing.

"Derek Hale." She said, her knives stopping deadly still in her hands and poised in an offensive position. "I've heard so much about you.”

Derek responded with a terrifying howl that seemed to shake the ground beneath their feet. He felt Scott shudder beside him at the sound, however Stiles couldn't take his eyes off of the scene playing out in front of him. Derek, who’s face was morphed into something out of a nightmare was crouched low his eery blue eyes fixed on Alex, yet her smile hadn't faltered.

"Come and get me, big boy." She taunted, rising on the balls of her feet. Derek launched himself at the small girl, his teeth elongated and claws aimed for her throat. She spun lightening fast, missing him by mere inches. He skidded to a halt behind her.

"You missed." She sing-songed, throwing two daggers on beat with each word. They whizzed through the night air in a blur of glinting metal until they found a home, sinking deep into his shoulder blades. Derek howled in pain, falling onto his knees.

Alex appeared behind him and began slashing at his back with two new knives. The sound was gruesome and Stiles could see the blood glint in the moonlight as it jumped off of Alex's blades, splattering her face and the forest floor. Stiles watched in horror as she flayed the skin off his back when Scott, seemingly unable to control himself any longer, howled low from beside Stiles.

Bright yellow eyes peered at him over a distinctly canine muzzle. Sharp teeth were bared at him, the act pulling his fur covered jowls tight across his snapping jaw. Scott crouched on all fours, his claws digging into the dirt by Stiles hand and he fell backwards in shock and fear. Scott watched him for a moment, Stiles breath caught painfully in throat wondering whether his friend was still in his body. 

Scott snorted, like he was unimpressed and took off on all fours in the opposite direction of the hunters.

"Holy shit." Stiles whispered in his compromised hiding spot, "I'm dead.”

Alex and Derek had been momentarily distracted by the appearance of the new wolf but it was all it took for Derek to gain the upper hand. He rolled away from Alex, coming to stand on all fours giving Stiles a perfect view of his mangled back. There was barely any skin left and large groves of flesh had been stripped leaving muscle exposed and hanging uselessly in strings.

Stiles dry heaved.

Derek had rounded on Alex with an intense speed, he seemed more dangerous now that his survival instinct had kicked in. He wrapped his arms around Alex, throwing her with incredible force into a large tree. Before Stiles could blink in surprise, Derek took off in the same direction as Scott.

Stiles was standing now, almost fully visible from the spot he had been crouching in when he heard Alex groan loudly from a crumpled heap on the ground, “Motherfucker."

He sprang from the cover of the trees and took three giant steps towards her, the only thought on his mind was getting to her and immediately afterwards, a hospital. Then her father burst through into the clearing, looking frantic and slightly winded. Stiles hit the ground hard, a whoosh of air leaving his lungs at the impact. 

"Alex!" Her father shouted, throwing himself beside his daughter and scanning the area for any threats. "Are you alright?”

He gingerly helped her to her feet and she let loose a colourful string of expletives. Stiles nearly threw up all over the front of his shirt when he saw the tree branch she'd been impaled by. It was the size of his arm, and the width of his thumb and it was sticking out of her side - just below her ribs. It had ripped a sizeable and bloody hole right through her jacket and undershirt.

"No." She rasped, looking pale as she surveyed the damage done to her torso. "This was my favourite jacket.”

Stiles could have laughed.

.

Alex spent the night sitting in her garage, while her father stitched up her side. She shoved the sleeve of her ruined jacket into her mouth and bit down hard during the makeshift operation hoping that Allison was already asleep and would not be disturbed by her constant moans of pain. When her father had stopped the bleeding and cut the last suture, he patted her shoulder and they wordlessly walked into the house.

The walk to her room was slow and torturous. Sleep evaded her due to the throbbing in her side and after a few hours of trying to maneuver her body to relive the pressure on her wound she gave up and read until the light of dawn crept into her room.

.

Allison had refused to speak to her all morning, only ceasing to ignore Alex’s existence to glare hatefully at her. They sat silently in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating cereal, though Alex picked at hers meagrely, unable to stomach the thought of eating. Alex had gone to the bathroom to change the dressing on her wound before they left for school and when she emerged from their shared ensuite there was a sheen of sweat on her brow and a green parlour on her skin.

Allison was already gone.

.

"Allison, please." Alex begged taking her seat next to her sister in homeroom.

"You ditched me." Allison stated, without looking at her, "Again. Always.”

Alex rolled her eyes when she noticed Scott and Stiles' heads turned slightly towards them, listening to their conversation. She had a bone to pick Scott McCall after last night but it would have to wait until she resolved the unfair tension between her and Allison.

“You probably were able to make more friends without me there darkening the room.” It was a lame excuse and she knew it, but she was in pain and exhausted. Her brain wasn’t equipped to come up with anything better. In fact, she was starting to feel a little dizzy and her wound began burn uncomfortably.

"No," Allison said, looking icily at the back of Scott's head, "I didn’t."

"I'm sorry -”

"Class is starting.”

And she was right, the teacher had begun talking about the the assignment they were to complete by the end of the period, but Alex wasn't listening. She shifted in her seat with a wince and inhaled sharply when she pulled at a stitch. Allison had busied herself by looking steadily ahead and continuing to ignore her sisters pleas.

"Fucking stubborn little shit-" Alex began to mutter under breath, interrupted by Stiles' face popping up directly in her line of vision. “Oh my," She jumped, and finished with a growl, "God. Can I help you?”

"The teacher said to pick a partner." He explained, shrugging and pulling his chair loudly across the linoleum floor so he could sit next to her and share her desk.

"Tell me," She said, annoyed, "Why doesn't McCall get the pleasure of dealing with you for the next hour?”

"He has some things to work out with Allison."

"Join the club." She grumbled, resting her head in her hands in a rare display of emotional defeat.

"Couldn't help but overhear that." Stiles said, feigning nonchalance and nodding his head at Allison and Scott.

"By 'couldn't help but overhear', you meant, 'actively eavesdropping.'" She drawled with a cocked eyebrow.

"What? Well, you know, uh," He spluttered, tapping the end of his highlighter nervously on the desk.

"Stiles?" She interrupted, facing him.

“Yeah?"

"English." She demanded.

"Right," He nodded, mostly to himself, "So, you bailed on her?" He said, leaning in closer, "You didn't go to the party at all?”

"No." She confirmed, flipping the page of her textbook casually.

"Why?" She could feel his eyes on her and refused to look at him.

"None of your business." She flashed him a sweet smile. He nudged his chair closer to hers, his elbow knocking into her freshly stitched up side. Alex immediately turned a frightening shade of white and a clammy sweat broke out on her skin. Pain blossomed from her wound and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to cry out.

"Sorry." He said, tucking his elbow closer to his side, but doing a double take after seeing her face. "Wow, are you okay?" He trailed off and his eyes widened with a realization.

Alex found the strength to rise from her seat and rush out of the classroom despite the teachers protests. Allison and Scott stared after her retreating form and then after Stiles' as he followed hot on her heels. Alex managed to get to her locker, leaning heavily against it for support and fumbled futilely with the lock for a few moments before Stiles pried it from her hand.

"Let me help." He suggested.

She dictated her combination to him and demanded, "Silver flask," when she heard him swing the locker door open.

Stiles dug through the contents, finding the flask thrown haphazardly at the bottom, he handed it to her and watched her twist it open and throw back a large swig. "What is it?" He asked, steading her with his arms. “Pain medication?”

"Whiskey." She breathed out, taking another healthy gulp. If she had been in a better state of mind she might have questioned why he thought she was packing pain meds.

"A little early, don't you think?" He questioned, peering at her in concern. His nose wrinkled at the smell.

"You've driven me to alcoholism, Stilinski." She said, placing her hand on her side, pulling it back and peering at her fingertips which were covered in blood. It was sticky and red and made her stomach clench unpleasantly. "It helps with the pain." She said through her teeth.

"What happened?" He asked carefully, eyeing her with a knowing gleam in his eye.

"A dog bit me." He saw a small smile play at the corner of her mouth, "Rabid thing, probably. I must have ripped a stitch.”

"Should you be at school?" His eyes stuck on her red finger tips and she wobbled on her feet, stumbling into his outstretched arms, his hands splayed across her back to hold her upright.

"It looks worse than it is." She lied, leaning against him, her head lolling against his shoulder. He tried not to smell her hair in what seemed to be a dire situation, but allowed himself a small sniff.

Lavender and whiskey.

"You should definitely be at a hospital." He said, watching her eyes flutter open and closed, in quick succession. “I’ll drive you.”

"No hospital." She muttered, swaying on her unsteady feet. Her eyes widened with the realization that she was definitely about to pass out, "Oh, fuck," and then her eyes rolled into the back of her head.


	4. Part Four: In Stitches

"She was impaled by a tree branch and then her insane father decided NOT to take her to a fucking hospital, like, I don’t know? A sane person!” Stiles ranted, throwing his hands in the air with a feral look in his eye. He didn’t stray very far from Alex’s unconscious form laid out on a metal slab - normally reserved for animals. Scott and Deaton were watching him curiously as he paced manically around the room.

Stiles had always lived a rather sheltered life, due in part to his father who tried his hardest to shield his son from the horrors of the world after the death of his mother. 

He was finding his beliefs and ideals of the world being tested with recent events. Scott being bitten had opened his eyes to the supernatural world and the violence that seemed to go hand in hand with it.

When Alex had collapsed in the hallway, going limp in his arms, he’d felt the tell tale signs of a panic attack creeping up on him. He had watched the blood pool around the wound in the forest the night previous. He had watched her sail into the waiting tree branch. He’d felt his heart beating erratically in his chest as the pain washed over her face.

It was that same panic, coming back with a vengeance. She had looked so pale and small in his arms. A thin sheen of sweat was coating her skin and the blood from her open wound fell in rivets over his hand as he uselessly tried to apply pressure. It dripped on to the floor and his breathing started to get choppy, the vision in the corner of his eyes blurring.

Scott had appeared next to them almost instantaneously, having smelled the blood from their homeroom class. Stiles’ panic attack seemed to wane with his best friends arrival and he was grateful for that.

They had carried her as conspicuously as possible to Stiles' Jeep, praying to whatever deity that obviously did not exist, that no one would see them carrying an unconscious girl out of the school. Or dropping her unceremoniously into the backseat of his Jeep.

They had driven directly to the animal clinic at a breakneck speed. Scott had been yelling at Stiles to slow down but Stiles could barely hear him. 

Deaton had immediately closed up shop upon seeing the trio banging furiously at the front door. He helped them a haul a very pale looking Alex onto his examination table while asking questions about the nature of her injury. 

Deaton looked a little shocked but got to work quickly, appraising his patient with a professional gaze.

Stiles was doing his best to explain and remain calm.

"Well," Deaton began, examining the wound with gloved hands. "Whoever stitched her up did a very clinical job. Experience with medicinal practice. It looks like ripping this stitch here," He gestured to a piece of black thread sticking out of angry red skin and generally looking like it didn't belong there, "in combination with no anesthetic and no pain medication was too much for her pain threshold.”

"Wait a second," Stiles blinked incredulously at the veterinarian, "No anesthetic? They stitched through her skin without giving her anything for the pain?”

“There is no injection site." Deaton explained, eyes never leaving the petite blond.

"Who needs pain meds when you can self medicate." Stiles said sarcastically, falling into a nearby chair and waving around Alex's silver flask. She had dropped it right before he caught her. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We need to get her back to school before Allison or anyone else notices that she’s gone.” Scott announced, his face was pinched - tight with tension and Stiles regarded him with incredulous eyes.

“She’s a little preoccupied at the moment, Scott!” He exclaimed, “WITH NEARLY DYING.”

“Stiles, if her dad catches wind of what’s going on, we’re both dead.” He supplied. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a point but Stiles couldn’t focus on tomorrow’s problem when todays was bleeding out right in front of them.

"Dead? That's a little dramatic, Mr. McCall." Deaton said, cleaning the wound and fixing the stitch with an expert tug of his sutures.

"Tell that to Derek Hale, who she cut into literal ribbons last night with sushi knives." Stiles exclaimed, working himself into the start of one hell of a frenzy. He had gone a little green with the fresh wave of blood that gushed from Alex’s abdomen.

"Japanese Ring Daggers." Corrected a groggy voice from the examining table, and then, "Where the hell am I?” 

Stiles jumped out of his seat.

Her eyes cracked open and took stock of her surroundings. Unfamiliar was never good in her line of work. She was in some sort of medical practice - that much, she knew. The table she was on was cold metal and several cages of varying sizes lined the walls. The sight made her uneasy until she saw the posters on the walls of wide eyed animals with cringe worthy captions adorning the bottoms.

"I'm Doctor Deaton, and this is my clinic." The older man explained, watching her closely. He held up his hands in what she interpreted as a surrender, or at least a show that he wasn't a threat. She looked down at her wound, closed shut and burning with a sharp pain.

Alex looked directly at Stiles, "You took me to a vet?" She laughed with very little humour, "There's a really good joke in there somewhere.”

She might never say it, but she was grateful to Stiles in a way. He’d taken her on as his responsibility when she had passed out. It was unusual to her - the Hunter’s had a very strict ‘every man for themselves’ rule. If she had been in a hunt, she would have been left, in favour of the survival of everyone else.

Stiles smiled despite their current situation, shaking his head at her invulnerability. He sat back down in his seat with an amused smile. He was steadily realizing that she might be unshakable, too busy making jokes in the face of danger to see it as a threat.

"So, Teen Wolf," Alex lifted herself up off of the table, swinging her legs over the side and hopping down on her feet, "How's that wrist of yours?” She was smiling a little, hoping to goad him.

"You really shouldn't be on your feet." Deaton said only to be ultimately ignored by everyone in the room.

Scott eyed the girl smirking in front of him and thought that he might have preferred her when she was unconscious and looking a little less indestructible.

"You tried to kill me!" He shouted, eyes wild. Stiles stiffened from his spot in the uncomfortable black plastic chair, watching the exchange.

"I tried to maim you." Alex responded calmly, rolling her eyes. "There's a difference.”

"She's got a point, Scott." Stiles chimed in, hoping his friend wouldn't lose his composure. His induction into being a werewolf had left him with a temper that could be volatile if left unchecked.

"Not helping." Scott growled, glaring at Stiles menacingly before returning his attention to Alex, "You were hunting us last night!" He pointed an accusatory finger at her and she chucked at the display.

"Yes, we hunt on the full moon," She said in a tone that suggested he was stupid, "When you are at your most volatile.” She wavered a little on her feet.

"I haven't done anything." Scott yelled, frustrated. “Nothing, and you’re trying to kill me!”

"Dude, could you chill out?" Alex asked, leaning on the table for support, "Why do you think you aren't dead yet? I haven't told my dad anything.”

"Why not?" Asked Stiles, not demanding - simply curious.

"Because I've been tailing you." She shrugged, "Though, I guess you've been tailing me too, if you know what happened between Derek and I last night.”

"We were there." Stiles said, coming clean. "Where did you learn to fight like that? You were amazing - and terrifying.”

"Listen," Alex started, ignoring Stiles as he started at her in wonder, "I'm a hunter, you are a werewolf. Just because I've decided not to kill you yet, doesn't mean we're friends or that I owe you any answers." She finished her speech and made her way to the door, head held high despite the discomfort from her side.

"Yet?" Scott and Stiles asked, simultaneously.

"I'm going to keep watching you." She said, "You won't be able to squat in the woods without me knowing about it. So, if you hurt anyone, I'll take you out. It really is as simple as that." She threw a causal look over her shoulder aimed at Deaton, "Thanks, Doc.”

She was gone in an instant, the chiming of the front door signalling her exit.

"None of this is simple." Scott said, head in his hands.

"Well," Said Stiles, clapping his best friends shoulder, "I think that went well.”

Alex walked out the front door of the animal clinic only to realize that Dumb and Dumber had brought her here, against her will might she add, and she had no car or any idea where she was.

"Going somewhere?" Came the annoyingly familiar voice of Stiles. Alex actually groaned into the air when she turned to see him swinging his car keys around with a shit-eating grin plastered to his smug face. Scott was noticeably absent.

"You know," She said, "I'm getting really tired of you popping up everywhere I go.”

It didn't stop her from getting in the car, or him from trying to help her into the passenger side.

"You know," He mocked, "Most people would say thank you." He looked at her expectantly, "No? Yeah, okay.”

"I didn't ask for your help.”

"Yeah," He scoffed, "because you were unconscious." He glanced at her sideways, taking a mental note that she looked really good sitting in his car.

"You make a valid point." She conceded as they pulled out of the parking lot, "So, thanks.”

"You're very welcome." He sounded too pleased with himself and she resisted the urge to punch his throat. She watched the veins in his arms jut out when he flexed his fingers against the steering wheel.

They rode back to the school in a comfortable silence and it wasn't until Stiles pulled up beside her parked car that he spoke.

"Scott is a good guy. You can watch him all you want, but you won't see anything." He took a breath, and she turned to look at him as he waged an internal war. Finally he swallowed thickly and asked lowly, "Can we trust you?”

Alex pulled out the silver blade she kept on her person at all times, the one she forged as her rite of passage at age twelve, stamped with the Argent crest. She maneuvered it between her knuckles and looked him in the eyes, "Can I trust you?”

Stiles eyed the impressive blade and gulped audibly, then he nodded.

"So, we have a truce." She declared, moving to open the door of the Jeep.

"Then, I think I should tell you something." He said, tapping his hand nervously on the steering wheel, "We think Derek is the one who bit Scott.”

"Derek Hale?" She questioned, taking her hand off of the door handle, "That's impossible.”

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"Exactly how new are you two to this?" She asked, wondering how they didn't know the basic facts.

"Newborns!" Stiles exclaimed, his fingers no longer drumming on the wheel but gripping it tightly, "Scott's first full moon was the night you tried to kill him!”

"Maim." She corrected again, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Whatever." He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "He was bitten only two nights before that," He paused, then added dramatically, "by Derek!”

"Stilinski, maybe you should be taking some notes here." She suggested, ultimately joking and showing her surprise when he began to root through his bag.

"I can't find a pen!" He said frantically, "What kind of high school student . . ." He trailed off when Alex reached out to grab his hand and pull it away from his backpack, she turned it over in her hand so his palm was facing up.

"Alpha, Beta, Omega." She said slowly, tracing three spirals connected in the middle on his open palm. He remained quiet, staring at her intently while he listened. "Omega, the lone wolf. It has no pack and therefore, next to no power. For hunters, they are the easiest to kill.”

"Scott." Stiles concluded, eyes flickering from where their hands were connected to her light blue eyes.

"No," Alex continued, "All Omegas start out as Betas. They make the conscious choice to divert from their Alpha, or they are forcibly removed from the pack. Betas are werewolves in packs, bitten by an Alpha. Obviously, Alphas are pack leaders and the only wolf able to create a Beta.”

"Okay," Said Stiles, absorbing every possible thing, "but how do you know that isn't Derek.”

"Derek is not an Alpha." She tried again, realizing that she was going to have to dumb it down quite a bit, "It's all in the eyes. An Alpha has red. When I was fighting Derek, his were still blue.”

"Alpha has red eyes and a Beta has blue, but Scott-“

"Alpha has red, Beta has yellow." She corrected, realizing how convoluted this whole thing sounded, no wonder the poor guy was confused, "Blue is for a whole other reason we'll have to touch on for our next lesson.”

"Derek didn't bite Scott." Stiles said, turning away from her to stare out the front window of his Jeep. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Wait for it . . ." She trailed off, watching him closely.

"There's another werewolf in Beacon Hills." He stated, eyes wide. "An Alpha.”

"Bingo." She smiled, impressed that he had caught on so fast.

"Why are you and your family going after Derek if he's not the Alpha?" Stiles asked, returning his attention to her. She was no longer focused on him, but the front doors of the school where any minute now, a flood of students would come pouring into the parking lot.

"Did you hear about the body they found in the woods?" She asked.

"You could say that." He responded, pleased that for the first time since they had met, she was telling him something that he already knew.

"It was cut in half," She continued, "The body, the half the police found, was effected by both silver and wolfsbane.”

“Effected?"

"It melted." She clarified, watching as he turned a completely unflattering shade of green.

"Oh," He put a hand to his mouth, "God. Gross. How do you even know that?”

"We have contacts in the police department." She said, nonchalant.

“What does the, erm, melting mean?” He asked, looking like he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted the answer or not.

“It means that the body was a werewolf.” She explained, “It wasn’t us - we don’t kill like that. We aren't completely sure, but we think Derek had something to do with it." She said, "We are trying to gather some proof so the kill is justified.”

“Justified?”

“When we kill, there needs to be a reason.” She said, “We can’t just kill any werewolf we come across with out proof of their violence, proof that they’ve killed humans.”

The students had started to descend upon the parking lot and Alex moved to exit Stiles' car. The last thing she needed was Allison to see her with Stiles, who was always a mere hop, skip, and a jump away from Scott. The less questions Allison asked, the better.

"Take it easy with those stitches." Stiles said in parting and Alex nearly stopped in her tracks. No one had ever thought twice about her injuries, which were many. According to her parents, they were apart of the job, and Allison was never allowed to know the extent of her injuries unless they were visible. Like that one time with the fork in her neck.

Stiles seemed to genuinely care for her well-being and she felt a warmth grow in her chest for the strange boy. Still, she said nothing in response and closed the door without a glance backwards.

"Did you ditch?" Allison said, coming out of the woodwork, not having seen her come out of the Jeep. "You ran out of homeroom this morning and then I didn't see you all day." Allison leaned against the blue Toyota, another of their families cars, and added, "Or Scott." Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "What was that, by the way, running out of class?”

"I felt a migraine coming on." Alex lied, moving around Allison's form to open the driver's seat door.

"And you ditched all day because . . ?”

“So you’re talking to me again?” Alex asked, deliberately trying to change the subject.

“You ditched because?” Allison asked again, the fire in her eyes a sign that she was unwilling to let the question go.

Alex had aways been quick thinking. After what seemed like a lifetime of lying to everyone in her life, she'd developed a natural and balanced relationship with deceit, so natural that sometimes she lied even when she didn't have to. She had to now, though, and it had to be good. "You know Jonathon followed dad from Washington?”

Allison nodded, a knowing smile on her perfectly angular face.

"We wanted some," Alex paused for dramatic effect, wholly to sell the story she was about to spin, "alone time." She finished with a wink.

That was just another lie on a long list she told her sister on a daily basis. Allison had started getting suspicious about the time Alex had been spending with Jonathon. Of course, the truth was that they were training mostly and hunting sometimes. However, of course Allison jumped to the more juvenile conclusion - that they were sleeping together. Alex had gone to her father about Allison's growing suspicions, concerned that they were getting out of hand and more frequent. Her father's response was to encourage Allison's belief that she and Jonathon were an item and confirm Allison's accusation.

"I can't believe dad hasn't caught you two yet." She smiled, pulling herself off of the car. "He'd totally kill you.”

"So," Alex started, hoping to steer the conversation in a less humiliating direction, "I take it you're speaking to me again?”

"Yeah," Her sister rolled her eyes, beginning to walk to her car which she'd petulantly parked across the lot, "But don't think you're getting off scot-free.”

Alex watched her sister saunter to her car a few spots over and let out a breath she'd been holding since what felt like that morning. Alex lowered herself into her car, noticing that in her passenger seat was her backpack. The one she'd left in homeroom. She figured that Stiles and Scott must have brought it for her, and bit back a sigh of appreciation. She reached into the front pocket and grabbed her phone, which as per usual, didn't have much to alert her about, except one message from the only person she really talked to:

Christ Argent 9:53 a.m. - You're going solo tonight.

The second message her father had sent continued to explain what the solo mission was going to entail, recon at the dilapidated Hale House.

Alex Argent 3:45 p.m. - Fun.

Then she deleted the text message thread and put the keys in the ignition. Looking to her left she realized that Stiles was still parked beside her, watching her, though when she turned her head and caught him, he whipped his head so hastily that she both saw and heard it smack against the Jeep's window. He looked back at her and waved with a goofy smile on his face.

"What a fucking weirdo.” She muttered.

.

Allison had passed out on the couch, a scenario which Alex had been waiting for since midnight. She couldn't leave for the Hale House with her sister asking questions about where she was going, and she couldn't come up with a plausible lie for why she was leaving the house this late at night.

When she stepped into the garage it was empty. She looked around but her father was no where to be found, not that she should have been expecting him. Recon missions were like baby milestones, she could do this in her sleep.

She geared up with serrated edge throwing knives and hit the road. The faster she got there, the faster she could find something that incriminated Derek in her families eyes and the faster she could go home and go the fuck to sleep.

.

The walk through the Preserve was cold, the weather was only getting colder since they'd moved here. When she finally got to the house the chill of the October air left her as the importance of the mission took over her frontal cortex.

She started inside the house, the old floor boards creaking under the weight of her footsteps. The scratch marks along the walls and floors made her shiver, knowing exactly what caused them. She didn't need to trace the lines with her fingers to know that they were claw marks. The story of the Hale House fire was legendary. No one knew how it happened, but everyone knew the aftermath; Derek, orphaned. Or so everyone thought. Werewolves had a funny habit of not staying dead.

She heard a yell from outside, a yell that was too shocked and inexperienced to be anything other than a stupid kid or a stupid police officer. A werewolf would have kept quiet and a hunter would have already killed her. Alex crept along the wrap around porch, knife dangling between her fingers lackadaisically.

The first thing she saw was a pile of unearthed dirt, then as she listened closer she heard the sound of a small whimper.

"What the fuck, what the fuck." She was getting pretty good a recognizing Stiles' voice.

"Shut up, Stiles." That was Scott, "Someone is going to -“

"Hear you?" Alex finished, jumping over the large pile of dirt and landing in front of the frightened young men. She ignored the pain from her abdomen and crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to convey just how unimpressive they both were.

"I think," Stiles breathed out after he stopped screaming at her surprise arrival, "I just pissed myself." Scott nodded from his spot on the ground, the spot he'd fallen over in after tripping over his own feet.

"Lovely." She commented, coming over to inspect what the two had been so worked up over, "Well, well, well. What have Thing One and Thing Two," She paused looking at them both and smiled, "I'm not telling you who is who, by the way," and returned her attention to the half a corpse laying buried beneath their feet, "Found here?”

"Have a look." Stiles said, waving a hand in the direction of the corpse with eyes open, yet unseeing. "I'm totally Thing One.” He muttered.

"Oh shit." She laughed, "I can't believe you found it.”

"You're laughing right now?" Scott yelled, absolutely horrified.

"Man," Stiles said, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans, "I told you she was terrifying.”

"This" Alex gestured to the grave, "Was my goal tonight." She smiled, "Find proof that Derek killed, and ripped in half, this poor unsuspecting girl. But you two assholes did it for me and now I get to go home and have a good nights sleep." Alex was overjoyed.

"You're thinking about sleep right now?" Scott asked, outraged.

"Listen asshole," Alex rounded on him with a fierceness in her eyes that would have scared any grown man, "I haven't had more than three hours a night, in like, two months. So yeah, I'm thinking about fucking sleep.”

"What are you going to do with the body?" Scott asked, backing down.

"Me? Nothing. I'm going to leave it here for the police to find.”

"Don't you need proof." Scott pressed, "For your dad?”

"My word is my proof." She said simply, but then reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her phone. "But, you do have a valid point." She pointed it at the grave and took a couple of pictures, "Work it girl." She commented dryly while snapping her photo’s, forgetting momentarily that she was not alone.

Morbidity was a learned trait.

"Alright," Said Stiles, "Not that this isn't fun and all but-" He cut himself off with a dry heave and tried to look anywhere but at the body. By the time he'd composed himself enough to see straight he got a clear view of Alex's retreating form.

"Hey! Alex!" He called, stumbling over to her, wishing she would slow down, "Should you be out here on your own?”

"I'm going home now, so does it matter?" She answered.

"Yes," He fell into step beside her, "It matters if you were out here planning to dig up a grave on your own with a wound that was just restitched.”

"Lucky for me," She beamed at him, which Stiles' found both terrifying and beautiful in light of their current circumstance, "I had some chumps I know do it for me.”

She winked at him but she couldn't be sure that he saw it in the dark.

He did.

"Why didn't someone else do this? Your dad knows you have stitches, he knows you should be resting." His hand hovered over her back, but he never actually touched her, he didn't think that would go over too well.

"It's just how we do things, Stiles." She said, inwardly sighing with relief when she spotted her car, "I'm fine.”


	5. Part Five: Group Hang

Scott had been unimpressed, to say the least, when Stiles reiterated the conversation he had with Alex. Scott was frustrated that she had given information so freely to Stiles but had only made threats of bodily harm towards him. 

Alex was a threat to his wellbeing, but Stiles had argued that she had information that they needed - which wasn’t entirely untrue. She unsettled Scott, to his core and he didn’t like it. He especially didn’t like her getting close to Stiles because his best friend was half in love with the girl already and she could use it to her advantage.

”You’re a werewolf, Scott." Stiles explained, a fact they were both well aware of. “It makes sense that she would talk to a human over you - don’t pout about it."

He was pouting. 

They were on the front steps of the school, both exhausted from the day before. The ride to school in the Jeep had been quiet. Scott trying to articulate how he felt and Stiles trying to five him the room to do so. Scott had made sure no one was around before stopping Stiles on the front steps and proceeding to argue about Alex Argent. 

He added, ”She doesn't trust you.”

"So, she trusts you?”

"Not a chance in hell," Stiles replied, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, "but at least she hasn't been trained to kill _me_.”

“Getting close to her isn’t smart.”

“But making google eyes at her sister is?”

They’d reached a stalemate.

“Speaking of, have you seen Allison yet?" Scott asked, surveying the school parking lot where cars were steadily arriving.

"No," Mocked Stiles, "But it's not like we have homeroom with her or anything - _oh wait-_ “

"Shut up, Stiles." Scott shoved his friend in the shoulder. The pair rolled their eyes simultaneously, and continued up the front steps into the building.

Homeroom proved to be an unideal place to talk to Alex, something Scott had been obsessing over since last night. If she was so willing to strike up a truce with Stiles then she would have to get used to him, too. He and Stiles were a package deal. Alex could be a valuable asset if she had the kind of knowledge he expected she did. A valuable asset that seemed to be itching to mortally wound him every time they made eye contact.

Everyone in the class was made to pair up and begin a reading exercise. 

Stiles watched Alex interact with Allison. The sisters chatted animatedly, obviously over whatever fight they had been in they day before because Alex chuckled at something Allison whispered in her ear. Stiles noted that the smile never fully reached her eyes.

The difference between the sisters was almost staggering. Allison was willowy - she had dark and elegant features, looking almost regal. Alex however, was her complete opposite. She was petite and curvy, soft blonde hair spilling around her shoulder when she moved even slightly - her bright green eyes taking in everything they roamed over. She was toned and every move she made suggested power and strength. 

They were both beautiful of course, but there was something about Alex that was haunting - something that had captivated him from the moment he had seen her.

That power and cat-like gaze was an obvious result of being a Hunter, Allison had an innocence about her that had made Stiles wonder just how different the sisters were. 

They’d only ever seen Alex and her father hunting - Allison didn’t have that powerful muscle or the calculated movements. It seemed an obvious conclusion that Allison was oblivious, and that her sister was actively keeping that part of her life a secret. 

Especially with the way she fawned over Scott. If she knew what he was and she was a Hunter, it wouldn’t have been so easy for her.

Stiles watched as Alex winced every now and then when she shifted her body a certain way, irritating her stitches. Allison didn't notice the way her sisters face contorted in pain, but Stiles did. He also noticed her look of concern every time she caught Allison and Scott staring at each other.

"Dude," Prodded Scott, shaking Stiles from his obvious gawking. ”Are you even paying attention?”

"Huh?" Stiles snapped his head towards Scott, who was standing over his desk, backpack secured on his back. The sounds of students pushing their chair back and gathering their things flooded his ears in a wave - he had not been paying attention in the slightest.

"The bell rang." Scott said, passing Stiles his bag, "And Alex is leaving, so can we go?”

Stiles dumped his things from his desk into his open bag and followed Scott out of the classroom.

.

Stiles didn't see Alex again until lunch hour when he was sitting with Scott at their usual table. He nearly jumped in surprise when they were joined by a horde of exceptionally beautiful people - Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Allison and Alex, and a couple of other players from the lacrosse team.

Stiles looked to Scott who wore a matching look of confusion. They usually sat alone, completely invisible to people like Lydia Martin. The newcomers were engaged in a conversation that Stiles had been too caught off guard to pay attention to.

"So," Continued Lydia, addressing the table and including Scott and Stiles. "What are we doing tonight?”

Allison looked like she had just been caught with her hand the cookie jar as Lydia directed her piercing gaze at the brunette. "You and Scott are bowling or something tonight, right? What time should we meet you at?”

Lydia was inviting herself and Allison was too polite to explain that she and Scott had planned a date, one that Stiles had been hearing about non stop since Scott had asked her on it. His friend looked decidedly put out.

Jackson looked irritated at the thought of spending any amount of time with Scott, Lydia looked expectant and Alex was slugging back on her silver flask, hiding a very obvious smirk. Her drinking had caught the attention of the table and she threw a withering look in their general direction.

She tried very hard to come across as a dislikable person, he noticed.

"What?" She shrugged, looking more irritated than Jackson, "Liquid lunch. Anyway," She continued, wincing like the words that were about to come out of her mouth physically pained her, "I'll come bowling.”

"Me too!" Stiles barely recognized his own voice as he eagerly volunteered to join the disaster date. He hated bowling.

"Great." Said Allison, looking guilt ridden as she looked at Scott, "A group hang."  
Alex looked bored and unimpressed as they continued to prattle on about mundane high school shit. Scott decided to take the opportunity to get some much needed answers.

"Alex," He said, gaining her attention, "Can Stiles and I talk to you about the English assignment?”

"Right." She rolled her eyes, already bored. They didn’t have an assignment. "What about it?”

"Let's go to my locker," Scott said, standing from the table, "To get my notes.”

Scott and Stiles both eagerly stood from the table.

"Alex, Allison," Started Lydia before Alex left to follow Scott and Stiles, "I'll come to your house tonight and we can get ready together.”

Alex didn't bother answering before turning on her heel and following Scott and Stiles out the cafeteria. She could just hear Allison making an excuse for her behaviour and saying, "That's 'Alex Speak' for, 'I'm super excited, can't wait.’"

Alex almost laughed out loud when she heard Jackson respond with all of his usual sarcasm in a low grumble, "Look's like we speak the same language.”

The boys locker room smelled just as bad as she was anticipating when Scott threw open the door. He looked around, making sure no one was there before starting in on her with the worlds lamest game of twenty questions.

"Does Allison know?" He paused, "What you and your dad do?”

"I thought we went over the fact that I don't owe you any answers." Her tone was nonchalant and she took a seat on one of the benches, cradling her side as she did. Her stitches pulled painfully and she hissed through her teeth. ”Easy, Stilinski. I'm fine." Alex said when she saw him take three giant steps towards her.

The genuine concern swimming in his eyes made her uneasy.

"Please." Scott pleaded, looking more desperate than she thought was possible.

"No," Alex sighed, taking pity on him, "Allison doesn't know." She watched Scott's face smooth over in relief. "It's in all of our best interests if we keep her out of this.”

It was an unusually diplomatic answer.

Scott said nothing while he stared absentmindedly at one of the lockers. "Derek didn't bite me." He phrased the statement like it was a question. Stiles had filled him in and now he was asking her to confirm.

"Like I told Sherlock over there," Alex gestured to Stiles, who was still watching her closely with concern, "It's impossible. Only an Alpha can give the bite.”

"So, there is another werewolf running around biting teenagers in the woods." He ran a hand through his impressively messy hair, "Who killed that girl in the Preserve?”

"Actually," Stiles piped in, "I was listening in on one of my dads calls. Turns out, it was Laura Hale and they're calling it an animal attack.”

"Animal attack." Alex rolled her eyes, "Fuck chivalry, creativity is the thing that's dead. Oldest cover-up in the book, but I guess that rules out Derek.”

"Rules out Derek?" Scott inquired, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Derek and Laura aren't just family," Alex explained, trying to stand from the bench, Stiles was at her side in an instant, offering her a hand that went ignored. "They were part of the same pack.”

"So?" Said Scott, "What does that have to do with anything?”

"If you live long enough to find out for yourself, you'll understand that the bond between pack members is stronger and more adhesive than family.”

"Can you stop saying stuff like that?" Scott’s voice was teeming with frustration.

"Like what?" She asked, side eyeing Stiles who couldn't seem to keep more than an arms length away from her.

" _'I haven't killed you yet', 'If you live long enough to find out'_!" He cried out, hands clenched in fists at his side as he repeated her past words to him.

"You'll come to appreciate my honesty, Scott." She said, turning towards the door. "People like us, ones who know the truth, we tell more lies than we take breaths in a day." She grabbed the door handle, pulled it open and looked back at the two, "I'll see you boys tonight.”

She left quickly - leaving more questions in the wake of her answers. 

Stiles was coming to realize it was something she did often.

.

"Oh, Allison. Absolutely not." Lydia frowned, dismissing the outfit choice with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "Look at Alex," She praised, “Now, _there_ is an outfit.”

Alex was wearing a plaid skirt with a dark blue crop top, her hair was down in loose waves and her makeup was light. Except for the concealer on her under eyes of course, if she applied that lightly, she was liable to make small children cry.

Hidden under her skirt were her favourite silver tipped throwing knives and every now and then they would brush her upper thigh, comfortingly.

"Alex," Groaned her sister, frustrated with the millionth outfit Lydia had dismissed, "Where's your flask?”

Alex laughed and smiled at Lydia, anyone who drove her sister to drink was fine in her books. She reached for her jacket and fished around in the pockets for the familiar smooth shape. She tossed the newly refilled flask to her sister.

Lydia threw some clothes at Allison, who was too busy slugging back whiskey when they hit her in the face and fell limply to the ground. Allison stared dumbly at her friends and after a paused they all fell into a fit of laughter.

Chris Argent chose that exact moment to walk through the door, without knocking and Allison quickly through the flask back to Alex. It glinted in the light as she caught it in her hands, staring at her father.

"It's Alex's!" Cried Allison, pointing an accusing finger at her sister. Alex rolled her eyes and pocketed the offending object.

"I think I'd be the worlds biggest hypocrite if I pretended that I didn't indulge when I was your age." Chris smiled at Allison, "But, Argent's value loyalty. Don't be so quick to throw your sister under the bus." He looked at Alex, "No more of that tonight. Who's driving?”

"I am, Mr. Argent." Lydia smiled sweetly from the bed, "and I don't drink. It's all empty calories.”

Chris smiled, seemingly appeased by the answer. He left with a few parting words about being safe, having fun and arriving home before curfew.

"Dude," Alex sneered, throwing a pillow at Allison when she heard her father's footsteps descend the stairs, "Not cool!”

"Oh, come on," She said, pulling her shirt over her head to let Lydia force a new one over it, "You know he lets you get away with everything. The last time he found booze in my room, he grounded me for a month! Besides," She shrugged, appraising her new shirt in the mirror, "I didn't lie, it is yours.”

"Your dad does seem alarmingly okay with underage drinking." Lydia commented distractedly, picking out jewellery for Allison.

Alex didn't say anything. She knew they were right. It wasn't like her dad didn't notice that his wet bar was steadily depleted, specifically of the good whiskey. He allowed her such follies because it was a strange world they lived in - her and her dad. The fact that she couldn't come home and have a drink after being out all night killing werewolves, simply because of her age, seemed inconsequential to Chris Argent.

They’d shared their first drink together when she was fifteen. 

Allison, however, was a different story. She was the golden child - not yet destroyed by their families legacy. He coddled her and hovered over her like a protective parent - the kind most people had. Allison’s jealousy of Alex’s relationship with their father was well known - but she didn’t understand that it was two sided. Alex often found herself thinking wishfully about her circumstances and how they’d be different if Allison had been the one chosen first.

"Come on," Lydia clapped her hands, finally finished with Allison. "Let's go.”

Lydia ushered the girls into her car and peeled out of the driveway. The music was blaring some repetitive pop song that both Lydia and Allison knew every word to. They danced wildly in the front seat, thrashing around and whipping their hair seriously encoring laughter from the other.

Alex fished her flask out of her pocket.

.

The bowling alley was loud and crowded, and everything Alex hated. There was also something fundamentally wrong about borrowing shoes like books from the library.

"Don't look so happy to be here." Allison had a playful smile on her face while she said it. She sat beside her as they pulled their shoes on and laced them up.

"Believe me, I'm trying.”

"Then why did you come?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Because you're here." Alex smiled, telling Allison the truth. There was a little bit more to it than that of course, but it was fundamentally true.

"We see each other all the time." Allison laughed, her eyebrows pulling down at the corners, questioning.

"I wanted to make up for missing the party." Alex finished, her smile gone. At this point she could barely imagine having a conversation with Allison that didn't involve at least one lie.

"Consider yourself forgiven." Allison smiled, pulling her up off of her seat, “As long as you are nice tonight, specifically to Stiles.”

"Stilinski?" She questioned, eyes wandering to where he was standing with Scott, Lydia and Jackson. He was attempting to pick up a bowling ball and failing miserably. He watched with wide eyes as Jackson breezed by him, picking up two and scoffing as he made his way back to Lydia's side offering her one of them. Stiles then pretended to be looking for something under the bowling balls to save face.

"He's totally crushing on you." Allison finished, having seen Stiles' bowling ball dilemma and politely pretending she hadn’t.

"No." Alex demanded, rolling her eyes, "He's just intrigued.”

_Because I tried to kill his best friend and might be sitting on some information he wants._

"Because I'm the new girl.”

"So am I." Allison reasoned.

"You're also in love with his best friend." Alex countered, "I'm sure guys have a code, too.” Allison opened her mouth to protest but Alex cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Enough bullshit, let's get this 'group hang' over with.”

Lydia started the game, bowling a strike with perfect form, which was less surprising to Alex the more she got to know the girl. Jackson looked almost as bored as she felt, and Scott and Allison were whispering like love struck morons in the corner. Alex was sitting next to Stiles who was loudly eating curly fries and droning on about all the shit he had heard on his hijacked police radio frequency.

He talked with his hands. He’d nearly hit her, twice.

"I hate bowling." She muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Huh?" He cut himself off, mouth full of fries.

"I hate bowling." She repeated, "In fact, I fucking loathe it.”

"You came to keep an eye on Allison, because of Scott." He declared, nodding to where Allison was trying to help Scott not make a total fool of himself.

"That obvious?" She asked, stealing a curly fry from his paper plate.

He smiled and looked down at his feet, "Only because I recognized the look on your face when you said you'd come.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"The same one that was on mine." He said, tapping his fingers on his already bouncing knee, "I came to keep an eye on you.”

"I'm the last person who needs to be looked after." She commented, unable to look him in the eye for some reason.

"I can't believe you've deluded yourself into believing that." He was looking at her with an intensity she found unrelenting and it was making her uncomfortable. "You look really pretty, by the way.” He added, like he hadn’t just insulted her independency. 

"What planet are you from, Stilinski?" She asked, unable to keep up with his constantly changing train of thought.

"Just figured I'd throw in a compliment before you either, told me to 'fuck off', or just walked away." He waved a curly fry around in the air, "Those seem to be your 'go to' moves.”

"Watch the attitude, Stiles." She drawled, "You'd be surprised what I can hide under this skirt.”

He gulped with wide eyes, not wide with fear but with something she recognized as more hormonal. Alex rolled her eyes and fixed him with a glare, she lifted her skirt higher up on her thigh and his intake of breath was sudden and intense. She stopped when her holster and daggers were clearly visible to him. "Weapons, pervert.”

If he hadn't looked like he was going to have a heart attack before, he certainly did now.

"I hate bowling, too." He said after taking a moment to blink the dark look in eyes away, "Wanna get out of here?" He cringed at his choice of words and hoped she wouldn't think it was some kind of pick up line - he knew she would probably have no issue slitting his throat right here if it was.

"So much." She said over a sigh of relief. "But it kind of defeats the purpose of putting myself through this adolescent hell, only to leave Allison here. Alone.”

"Not only are you a total badass," He started, earning a smirk. "You're also intelligent. So, I'm pretty sure, that as much as it's been ingrained in you to hate Scott, you can see that he would never hurt anyone. Especially Allison.”

"I am a total badass." She agreed, with a curt nod of agreement and a sly smile.

"Exactly, so he would classify as the dumbest werewolf ever if he did anything to piss you off." He said standing and offering her his hand. He continued as an afterthought, "Allison is also totally out of his league, so I know he wouldn't do anything to mess it up. It's a full blown miracle that she's even interested in him.”

"You're working with some solid logic." She said, standing up without taking his hand. "Also, if I have to watch anymore of this pointless fucking game, I'm going to kill something." She patted her thigh, "Myself, maybe.”

Plus, the physical aspect of the game wasn’t really helping her stitches.

Allison was too busy distracting Scott with visions of her dancing naked in his head to notice her sister sneak out the door with Stiles, dumping their shoes unceremoniously on the floor as they went.

"So," Stiles began as they sat in his parked Jeep, listening to the police scanner. "Where did you move from?”

"If you ask Allison, she'll say San Francisco." Said Alex, her feet kicked up on the dashboard. Stiles had been trying not to look at her outstretched legs since she'd made herself comfortable. "But we weren't there long enough for it to really count.”

"Sounds like a story." Stiles pressed, coughing awkwardly as he dragged his eyes away from the sight of her bare legs.

"Well, we were technically moving from Washington to Beacon Hills, but a friend of my fathers needed our help." She explained, pausing briefly. "Our specific brand of _help_. It was only supposed to take a day or two, but the clan of bloodsuckers proved to be a bigger threat than we thought.”

"Vampires?" Asked Stiles, leaning in closer, "Shit. What isn't real.”

"You'd be disappointed." She said, vague. Stiles noted that seemed to be one of her themes.

"So, how did you, uh, you know, finish the job?" He asked, inwardly groaning at how lame he sounded.

"Vampires need to be beheaded." She continued with a casual shrug, "Nasty stuff. They had us cornered in an abandoned hotel basement. The fight lasted two days. There had to be around fifty of them living down there, feeding on humans. Judging by the bones, they seemed to prefer children.”

Stiles wore an expression of horror.

"We used mostly flaming arrows and swords, neither of which I'm too familiar with. I prefer knives.”

"So I've seen.”

"It might not seem like it," She continued as Stiles listened with rapt attention, "But two days was quick work. We were in the homestretch when I was caught off guard. One of them bit down, right here," She gestured to her ribcage and pulled up her shirt where he saw one long, thick white scar starting just below her breast and ending at her hip. "I swung the sword down on his neck, but with the force of his bite and the strength of my sword, as I cut through his neck, I dragged his head," She trailed her finger down the length of the scar, "All the way down. Basically tore me in half. So, I spent a month in the hospital.”

"Holy shit." Was all Stiles could muster, "So you had a decapitated head dangling from your body, attached by only a tooth?”

He withheld his commentary about her father’s choices when it came to injuries and sending his daughter to the hospital. She’d been gutted and sent to the hospital but not after being impaled?

"Pretty much." She nodded, "It was pretty bad." She recalled the image of her father standing over her as she bled out in the dank basement. It was the only time she could remember seeing remorse in his eyes for what he had taught her to do. "We told Allison I was in a motorcycle accident," Alex laughed, "She made me sell mine after that.”

"So, your family lived there while you recovered?" Stiles' eyes strayed to the small strip of her abdomen that was visible above her skirt and swallowed audibly.

"Yeah. Allison really liked it there." She stated, "I, obviously, was not a fan.”

"How many times have you almost died?" He questioned, returning his gaze to the window.

She didn't provide him with an answer, only a humourless laugh. 

He got the point.

The police scanner crackled to life, filling the new silence.

" _We have a possible 491 on Oak Street, all units, who is responding?_ ”

"What's a 491?" She asked.

"Gunshots. Possible gunshots." He explained, looking down at the clock, "Holy shit, it's two in the morning! I don't see Lydia's car, they must have left. I should get you home.”

"Fuck that." She smiled, pinning him with a dangerous glint in her eye. "Lets see who's getting trigger happy at two in the morning." Her smile only grew when she saw her own excitement mirrored in his eyes. It didn’t take him very long to throw his piece of shit car into drive and peel out of the parking lot.

.

"Your aunt?" Stiles exclaimed, wide eyed, "Figures." He deadpanned, ducking lower to floor of the Jeep. "Who did she just shoot?”

"My best guess," She concluded, watching her aunt inspect the damage to her car. “Derek.”

They were parked a block away, watching Kate wave her shotgun around like a maniac. They’d killed the lights and ducked low in their seats while her aunt had tried to gun down a particularly ballsy werewolf.

"Does your family still think he killed the girl in the woods?" He asked, "Do they know it was his sister?”

"I don't know how in the loop she is," Alex said, "But I do know that Kate wouldn't care either way. She's ruthless with more than a hint of psychosis." She put a hand on Stiles' shoulder to get his attention, "Listen closely, Stilinski. You need to tell Scott to lay low while Kate is in town. Real fucking low.”

"What are you doing?" He demanded watching her remove her knives from her thigh holster.

"I'm going to go out there, placate my aunt and take control of this extremely shitty situation." Alex stated, hand on the Jeeps door handle, "Lay low, Stiles." She reiterated, "Wait until we're gone before you leave." Her knives glinted as she quietly opened the door.

"The police are coming, be quick.”

"See you in homeroom.” She chuckled, shutting the door behind her as quietly as possible.

Alex crept around the side of the building, trying to create the scenario that she had come running from the opposite direction of where Stiles was parked. She took off at a sprint towards her aunt, a fake look of concern on her face. Kate spotted her immediately, still on edge, but she smiled darkly when she recognized her niece, knives in hand and ready for a fight.

"Kate?" Alex asked with fake surprise etched on to her face.

"Alex." Kate smiled, "I almost didn't recognize you, Gorgeous.”

Alex halted to a stop in front of the familiar smirking face. "What can I say?" She matched her smirk and lowered herself into a dramatic bow. "It's genetic.”

Kate laughed in response and moved to hug her niece. When she pulled back, she fixed Alex with a curious gaze, "What are you doing out here?”

"I was out with friends." She explained, not missing a beat, "I got bored, made an excuse to bail so I could do some patrolling.”

"That's my girl." Kate said, leaning back on her car casually, broken glass crunching under her feet. "You missed all the fun.”

"Looks like it." Alex observed, clocking the bullet holes and shattered car window.

"Hale's always put up a good fight." Kate stated, eyes on the roof of the building, "I got the bastard pretty good, though.”

Alex only hoped that it wasn't Scott who had been roaming around tonight, but she didn't think he would randomly attack a woman. That seemed more up Derek's alley, especially considering his history with Kate.

"Oh. Good." Said Kate, "Here's Chris.”

Alex watched the familiar SUV screech to a stop in front of them and Chris emerged looking murderous. "Put the gun away, Kate.”

"Relax, Chris." She smiled, poking him with the barrel of the gun. "While you were at home watching late night T.V. with your wife, the women were out here kicking ass and taking names." She winked at Alex.

"What are you doing out here, Alex?" Her father questioned, "Allison came home without you. She said she couldn’t find you.”

"Bowling isn't really my thing. This, however . . ." Alex gestured to the scene in front of her.

"The two of you together," Chris shook his head while his gaze flicked between the two women in front of him, trailing off meaningfully. He shook his head, "Let's get home. We'll call a tow in the morning.”

The three piled into the car and as they drove away, Alex threw a quick glance backwards at the blue Jeep hidden in the shadows.

When Alex got home she headed straight for the garage, de-gearing and listening to her father fill Kate in on the latest supernatural news.

"Derek wouldn't kill his own sister." Chris said, "So, the kill isn't justified.”

"Not justified?" Kate said, scoffing, "I do believe he attacked me tonight.”

"We don't know that was him." Chris reasoned, "It could have been the other Beta.”

"The second Beta isn't a priority." Alex said quickly, hoping not too quickly as to garner suspicion. "We need to think logically, not just about killing everything in our path.”

"What are you saying?" Kate asked, all hints of fondness gone - this was the Kate she knew, the one who sneered at her and always hit a little too hard in training sessions.

"The Alpha is the threat, the 'big bad', if you will." Alex said, cleaning her knives methodically before putting them away, "It would be stupid not to prioritize that threat.”

"But Derek -“

"Derek didn't kill his sister." Alex interrupted Kate, "He has no pack, he's basically an Omega. The other Beta isn't even a blip on my radar." Alex hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She couldn't believe she was actively protecting Scott McCall by lying through her teeth to her family. "We focus on the Alpha. It is the threat.”

Guilt prickled at the forefront of her mind.

"Fine." Kate spit out, "Derek won't last long, anyway. That wolfsbane bullet packs a nasty punch.”

Alex said nothing as she walked inside the house. She peeked in Allison's room before closing the door quietly and falling in her own bed. Thoughts barrelled around in her head, keeping her awake. She had never lied to her dad about the hunt. They protected people from werewolves and other supernatural threats, and now she was protecting the threat from her father. Why? Because he had that lost puppy dog face and a debilitating crush on her sister?

Alex knew she was digging her own grave. Nothing good was going to come from whatever it was she was doing. She'd always had great instincts and she'd been taught to rely on them and trust them - she had a gut instinct about Scott, one that had her believing that he deserved to live.


	6. Part Six: Family Dinner

Alex had been up all night - staring at the ceiling and watching the morning light seep into her room from the window. Sleep had never come easy to Alex - for as long as she could remember exhaustion crept along her bones, a constant companion these last few years.

She pulled her heavy muscles from her bed and stared with bleary eyes at her floor boards. The steady foot falls of her sister sounded from the hallway and Alex lifted her eyes to her doorway just as Allison bounded through without knocking.

"Okay," Said Allison, her eyes bright with insinuation. "Last night. You and Stiles?” Allison jumped onto the bed with a childlike excitement that usually brought a smile to Alex’s face - except for today.

"Did you say anything to dad?" Was her first question - not because the insinuation was correct, but because she had told her father and Kate that she ditched her friends, not that she'd taken off with one.

"No, I just said that you bailed." She shrugged, "Which you totally did, but Stiles? He's so not your type. You eat boys like him for breakfast." She smiled as Alex turned to fix her sister with an unimpressed sneer. "I know I told you to be nice, but not _that_ nice.”

"It wasn't like that." She tossed the remaining blankets off of her, revealing her bra and underwear combination. "He hates bowling almost as much as I do. We just sat in his awful car and listened to a police scanner he rigged into it." She yawned and stretched - trying to shake off another night with little sleep. "It wasn't that bad, actually.”

"If by 'wasn't that bad' you mean 'kinda weird'." She pulled her legs up to sit crosslegged and watched as Alex threw on pair of jeans and black camisole. "Scott and I had a great night.”

"I saw that." Alex looked at her sister with a mocking smile and began speaking in an annoying voice that was an octave too high, "'Picture me naked, Scott.’"

Allison went as red as a beet and fell over sideways on the bed, covering her head with Alex's grey comforter. She squealed in embarrassment and mumbled from beneath the covers, "I can't believe you heard that.”

"I hear everything." Her smirk was pointed. “What are you doing up here bothering me? I figured you’d be downstairs kissing Aunt Kate’s ass. You’re her favourite, after all.”

Allison whipped the covers off of her head and sat up with a beaming smile, all traces of her earlier embarrassment gone.

"Aunt Kate is here?" Before Alex had even gotten one word out of her mouth, Allison was sprinting out of her room and bounding down the stairs yelling excitedly for their Aunt.

"At least someone likes her." Alex mumbled under her breath.

.

It had been a long time since Alex had experienced a perfect normal day.

Something so mundane and average that she teetered on the precipice of boredom. School had come and gone with little to no excitement and Alex was actually in a good mood. No one had pissed her off, nothing supernatural had elicited any knife throwing, and she'd even aced her english paper.

Which is why it came as no surprise when it all came crashing down around her.

She was out for a run, jogging down the sidewalk - something she did often in order to maintain her stamina. The neighbourhood her family had moved them to was a nice one. It was in a ritzier area of town near where Jackson and Lydia lived. The houses were large and beautiful, lawns well manicured and landscaped to perfection. The sidewalk felt great underneath her feet and she wondered if rich people got better pavement. 

Jogging was a perfectly normal thing for a perfectly normal girl to be doing on a Friday afternoon. 

Her smile was almost genuine. 

That was, of course - until a hauntingly familiar blue Jeep tore around the corner and came to a screeching halt beside her. Stiles leaned out of this window with a grimace.

"We have a problem." He rolled down the window to the backseat, perfectly showcasing a very unhealthy looking Derek Hale.

He was sprawled in the backseat, his skin an unnerving shade of white and had rivets of sweat dripping down his face. He cracked a red rimmed eye open and surveyed her with a deep frown on his cracked lips

"Oh no." Alex said, taking out her headphones and shaking her head determinedly and backing away. "Not today. I’m not dealing with this today.” She finished and began looking around, "Also, are you fucking crazy? Bringing him into my neighbourhood.” She glared at Stiles and threw her hands up in exasperation. “Jesus, I'm surrounded by morons.”

"Nice to see you, too.” Stiles smiled, like he was completely unaware he was harbouring a dying werewolf in his backseat. He eyed her running attire and she resisted the urge to wipe away the sweat dripping down her forehead. "You look great.”

"One normal day." She lamented, more to herself than to either of the two males in her company. “Just _one normal day_.” 

Stiles had the good sense to look a little guilty at the way her shoulders slumped and a resigned breath slipped past her lips. She closed her eyes briefly and walked around the front of the car, wrenching the passenger door open with a grunt.

"Stiles, I'm going to kill you." Moaned Derek from the backseat, “I don’t want her involved.”

"Well," Stiles started, "You ungrateful little-" 

An inhuman growl emanated from the back of his car and Stiles paled slightly.

”She's a hunter, one I trust.” He said instead. “So, if we need to find a magical bullet to save your little werewolf ass, she's our best option. Besides, I don't think you are in the position to be questioning my plan.”

"You can't trust a hunter." Derek said, he seemed to be a having a difficult time catching his breath. "A hunter is the reason we're in this situation.”

"We?" Stiles asked, incredulously. He tossed his hands dramatically in the air and glared at Derek in the rearview mirror.

"You know," Alex said, sounding bored despite their current situation. "Not that watching you two flirt wasn't first on my 'to do list' today, but Stiles has a fantastic point." She turned around to glare at the moody shapeshifter, "My aunt put that bullet in you, so you are looking at your best chance of survival, right here," She pointed to herself. "Take a page out of Stilinski's book, and start telling me how great I look.”

Stiles' cheeks darkened in the driver's seat as he turned a sharp corner, jostling Derek in the back who swore loudly. She saw his eyes widen with recognition when she mentioned her Aunt and he launched himself forward, inches away from her face.

She maneuvered out of the way with a snort of amusement.

"You!" He yelled out, "You were the hunter in the woods! The one who almost killed me.”

"Come and get me, Big Boy." She echoed the same taunt she had used that night - he bared his teeth at her, "Whatever," She rolled her eyes, "You stuck a tree branch through me. Consider us even.”

Derek seemed pacified for the moment, though that may have been because he was about to pass out. Stiles took the opportunity to fill Alex in on what exactly he was about to drag her into.

"We need to get the bullet Kate used, get it to Deaton," Stiles turned sharply once more, "And save his life.”

“I _know_ that.” She rolled her eyes. “Why should I help him?" Alex questioned, her hands ghosting over her side. The discomfort was gone from her wound and the skin had healed nicely but seeing Derek had created a phantom pain. "Scott is one thing, but Derek fucking Hale? No way.”

She was already riding the line between humanity and insanity and helping Derek would most definitely push her in the direction of the latter. Alex had decided, none too easily, that Scott McCall was not the evil werewolf of legend - he was a small town high school kid with obscenely bad luck. She could justify betraying her families trust because they would kill first and ask questions later.

The guilt of her decision kept her awake at night - but somewhere, deep down, she knew she was doing the right thing. She could explain it but she had been trained to trust her instincts and that was what she was doing.

Derek Hale on the other hand, was no innocent little school boy and she would have no moral dilemma with letting him die. Kate and her father would expect him to die after being hit with the laced bullets. If they found out the Derek survived they would know that someone had stolen Kate’s bullets and how long after that discovery would they start looking at Alex with distrust?

"I'm right here!" Derek yelled, his voice had taken on a frighteningly feral quality. He was deteriorating. Fast.

"Scott needs him." Stiles reasoned, desperately. “He’s helping us figure out who the Alpha is and he’s the only other werewolf we know about that can help Scott control himself.” He turned his pleading gaze to Alex and added, “Please.”

Alex was being presented with another choice between family and conscience. If she helped Stiles now it wouldn’t just be helping an innocent teen werewolf who hadn’t harmed anyone and deserved a chance at life - it would be turning on everything she believed in, everything she was taught, to help a werewolf who she knew for a fact had harmed others.

She took a moment to look at Stiles.

A simple human boy - human. Someone she was sworn to protect from the evils of supernatural creatures. Yet, here he was driving a dying werewolf around in broad daylight desperately trying to save his life for the good of his best friend.

Stiles was human and she had a duty to protect humans at all costs.

It wasn’t solid logic by any means but if she pondered any longer she was going to change her mind.

”Besides, I _really_ don't want him to die in my car." He side eyed her with a hopeful look.

"Valid." She nodded. "You'd have a hell of a time trying to get that smell out.”

Stiles cringed at the though and then snapped his head to look at her, "So, you’ll help?”

“I regret it already.”

Stiles smiled. “So, how do we do this?”

"How do you feel about a family dinner?" She asked, a slow smile spread over her face. 

Stiles gulped. Her smile was beautiful and dangerous.

.

Alex had dragged Stiles up to her room before anyone could see her unexpected guest. They'd dropped Derek and all of his dead weight off at the animal clinic with the promise that they would be back soon - hopefully before he kicked the proverbial bucket.

Stiles was staring at his phone with such intensity that Alex wouldn’t have been surprised if it caught fire. A handful of his calls to Scott had gone unanswered and he was pacing the length of her bedroom furiously. 

"Where the hell is Scott?” He grumbled, tapping away on his phone screen manically.

"Hopefully, laying low." She answered while riffling through her closet for something to wear for dinner. "I'm serious about my aunt - if you think I’m bad, you haven’t seen anything yet. He needs to stay out of sight.”

“Oh good!” Came the high pitched response that suggested the opposite. “Just great!” She snorted in amusement at his blatant sarcasm. “What’s my excuse for being here, anyway?” He asked, taking a look around her room. 

He'd never been in a member of the opposites sexes' bedroom before. Well, not as a teenager. He noticed that her walls were grey, with a lot of black and white pictures in black frames hanging on them. It was very simple, a room he'd expect of a young adult, not a sixteen year old. He turned around to look at her and nearly choked on his own sharp intake of breath. Alex had taken off her jogging clothes and was clad in only a pair of tight fitting jeans. 

The sight of her bare, lithe back had him clasping his hands over his chest, with a distressed cough. He knew he should look away, normally he would have. He was a respectful young man - but he was also only human.

"You are my English project partner, here to study." She said easily, "You're here to eat dinner - and then steal a priceless bit of weaponry from my aunt.”

"As long as we're being honest." He deadpanned. He was dazed as he watched while she threw on a light green tank top that looked tantalizingly like silk as it rippled over her skin.

Stiles tried not to stare open mouthed when she turned around to face him with a predatory smile, “Showtime."

He followed her down the stairs - wringing his hands together nervously. He had no idea what he was walking into. Alex had proven time again to be cunning, clever, and lethal - it didn’t take a genius to figure out where she learned it from. Her family was primed to be just as intimidating and for a moment he couldn’t remember why he had agreed to dine with them.

If Derek’s account of his altercation with her Aunt said anything about the Argent’s then Stiles felt he was justified in his anxiousness.

The kitchen was bustling when they entered and an abundance of glorious smells temporarily distracted him. He was a teenaged boy, after all - food was his love language.

They were met with smiling faces, a sight he hadn't expected when he pictured this event in his mind. A man Stiles assumed was Alex’s father bobbed his head to the music playing from a sound system as he sipped a glass of red wine. 

A severe looking woman with short hair smiled wistfully at him while she peppered some toasted almonds in a large bowl of salad and a younger woman - presumably Kate was trying to sneak Allison some wine from the bottle. 

Allison looked scandalized, turning her head to look for witnesses before she took a small sip. Her Aunt laughed at her theatrics and Allison joined in with a bright smile.

It was a surreal sight because he hadn’t expected marital and familial bliss - mostly he pictured; murder, blood, and Japanese Ring Daggers.

"Well," Chris smiled noticing their entrance. "Looks like we're having a party!”

Alex smiled wide at her father, stealing a seat on a stool by the island and gesturing for Stiles to follow. ”I hope you don't mind, I invited my friend from class. Everyone this is Stiles - and yes, that is his real name.” 

Stiles waved with a warm smile and made eye contact with everyone in the kitchen. “Nice to meet everyone - hope I’m not intruding.” He looked like the picture perfect boy to bring over to meet the parents. It made Alex irritable.

“Absolutely not.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder, nearly spilling his wine. “Victoria always makes enough to feed an army.” 

Victoria smiled in response - such an uncharacteristic thing for her mother to do. They were putting on quite the show for their unexpected dinner guest. “You’re doing us a favour - I did go a little over board tonight.”

“Tonight?” Chris quirked a teasing brow at his wife and ducked out of the way of an incoming carrot. Alex leaned off of her stool and caught it with a smirk, biting into it with pointed look at her mother.

Everyone began talking amongst themselves, she lost Stiles in the midst of watching her father and Kate bicker over control of the music. When the doorbell rang Allison excused herself with a slight blush to answer it. 

Alex didn't see Stiles introduce himself pointedly to everyone, nor did she see the handshakes or the genuine smiles he received - because she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who followed Allison back into the kitchen, Scott Fucking McCall.

Alex grabbed Stiles' arm in a death grip that contradicted the sickly sweet smile on her face and said lowly as to not arouse suspicion from her family, "What the fuck is McCall doing here?”

"Not laying low." Was his extremely unhelpful answer.

Scott caught their eyes after making introductions to the family and made his way over to them - eyeing the white knuckle grip Alex had on Stiles’ forearm.

"Stiles?" Questioned Scott, "What are you doing here?”

"Uh," It seemed they had garnered the attention of everyone in the room. "Studying. With Alex.” He rushed out. “What are _you_ doing here?” 

The emphasis was clear to Alex - Stiles had given him her strict instructions to stay away from her family and lay low but he’d chosen not to listen. She relaxed her grip on Stiles. It wasn’t his fault that his best friend was a colossal mouth breather.

"The more the merrier!" Smiled Kate, hopping off of the counter where she’d been perched. She stood uncomfortably close to Scott and Stiles and eyed them appreciatively. "What are they giving you boys here in Beacon Hills? You two are just so handsome-“

Allison cut her off with a slight gasp. "Aunt Kate!” Allison looked mortified.

"Honesty is the best policy." Responded Kate, giving the boys another inappropriate once over and sauntering back over to the counter.

"Come on, you two. Help with the plates." Allison demanded, gesturing through the double doors that lead to the massive dining table in the next room. They both accepted a few plates and handfuls of silverware. Stiles tossed an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Alex.

Alex balled her fists at her sides and when Allison excused herself to grab napkins Alex rounded on Scott and Stiles, brandishing her mothers good silverware like a sword.

"You'd be surprised at the damage a well aimed butter knife can do." She said menacingly with narrowed eyes, stalking towards Scott with a murderous glint in her blazing eyes.

“You know, I don't think I would be." Stiles said, eyes wide and hands in the air.

"Jesus." Muttered Scott, glancing worriedly at the dining room entrance where her families muffled voices floated into the room.

"I told you to lay low." She hissed while taking a step forward, effectively backing Scott into a wall. She allowed Stiles to side step her and watch the scene unfold, he moved strategically to block the view of them from anyone who might come into the dining room.

"I did tell him!" Stiles tried. "He _chose_ not to listen." Stiles glared pointedly at Scott, "And now look at what you've gotten us into.” He gestured to the blunt knife in Alex’s hands.

"Scott, fuck." Alex moaned, shaking her head. "You really shouldn't be here.”

"Could we discuss this without weapons?" Scott asked, sighing with relief when she lowered the utensil.

Over the roaring in her ears she registered that the doorbell had been rung again and she sighed - wondering who else was going to invite themselves to dinner. With her luck, it was probably Derek. Or a coven of murderous witches. Or Hitler.

"Just don't speak. Or look anyone in the eye." She demanded, then added with a shrug, "Or breathe.”

"Great." Scott replied sarcastically, "Where's Derek?”

"Safe." Answered Stiles, going back to setting the table. "The animal clinic. But the faster we get that bullet, the better. He was starting to smell like death.”

Scott made a face that suggested he'd rather not have heard that, but when Allison walked back through the entrance, the looked melted right off of his face - replaced by a goofy smile.

Alex nearly gagged.

"Alex," She smiled, a look on her face that her sister recognized as something cheeky. "Jonathon is here." Then, to top it off, she winked.

As if on cue, the man in question sauntered in after Allison. Alex gave him a hasty once over. Jonathon never had any emotion on his face, it was always blank and she could never tell if he was hiding everything he felt or if he was just a sociopath. Either way, he was irresistibly handsome and well dressed - what was a little instability, anyway?

"Alex," He said smoothly, looking from her to her classmates and stepping further into the room to stand directly in front of her. "You look lovely.”

Alex looked up at him, because he was so tall and smiled a pretty and demur smile that Scott and Stiles, who were watching the exchange, had never seen on her face before. They had never seen her look anything other than bored, or terrifying. The way she was smiling at the newcomer had them both staring in shock, for two very different reasons.

"Thank you." She said, sincere.

"Can I speak with you for moment?" He asked, extending his arm to her. She wordlessly agreed by taking his extended arm and following him to the sliding glass door, through it, and on to the backyard patio.

"Who the hell was that?" She heard Stiles demanding as the sliding glass door was closing, followed closely by Scott and Allison's laughter.

The night air was chilly and Alex wrapped her arms around herself, an act she would never do in front of anyone else. It seemed too fragile an action for someone of her stature but Jonathon had seen her at her very worst - they had very few secrets, if any.

"Your aunt is here." He stated, a line of worry etched into his forehead.

"Yeah," She said, "She made quite an entrance, too.”

"Kate is not good news, Alex." He looked her in the eyes, the way he used to when they trained together in Washington or went on Hunt’s together. It was a protective look - one that was usually followed by an asinine comment about being careful or not doing anything stupid. "She's always been extremely competitive with you.”

"I'm aware." She stated. The difference between now and then was that she was a leader now - she called the shots and her team respected her to the fullest. She might have found his want to protect her endearing when she was younger and learning all about the terribly unsafe world they lived in, but now she knew how to handle herself, and the way he was looking at her was simply offensive.

"Your mother doesn't show signs of telling Allison anything." He started, putting a hand on her bare shoulder. "Which means that you are her main competition right now. I've known Kate a long time, too long, and the only thing she cares about is power. Right now, you have more than she does.”

"Your point being?" She leaned slightly into his touch and hated herself for it. He rubbed his thumb over her clavicle, almost imperceptibly.

"I want you to be careful.”

Alex had received many warnings in her lifetime and she could recognize this one a mile away.


	7. Part Seven: Tough Crowd

"Why is she letting him touch her?" Stiles questioned, squinting his eyes at the sliding glass door, hoping to see what was going on. "Why hasn't she killed him yet?”

The question was serious, but Allison laughed, laying her head on Scott's shoulder.

"She's not as much of a hard ass as she likes to pretend she is." Allison smiled, speaking to Stiles' but looking at Scott affectionately.

 _Obviously,_ Stiles thought bitterly, _she doesn't know her sister very well._

Stiles peered out beyond the glass door but found that the glare made it impossible to see. Why had Alex worn that expression while looking at Jonathon? It was shocking to see her eyes soften and a soft smile tugging at her bottom lip. Even her damn body language had changed - the tense lines of her shoulders while berating Scott had melted into a weird kind of _droop_.

He felt a fizz start in his veins, like the blood running through them were simmering to a boil.

Jealousy, he realized.

He’d always had a bit of an obsessive personality but this was pushing it a little.

Scott threw him a sympathetic look and then pointed to his wrist as if to say, _sorry for your luck but Derek doesn’t have time for your broken teenage heart._

Stiles resisted the urge to flip him off.

The adults started to filter into the dining room carrying in numerous plates of food and setting it all down at the table.

Alex and Jonathon returned shortly after everyone had taken their seats.

“Jon, Son - we weren’t expecting you but we’ve set a place.” Chris smiled at the young man and offered him the seat right beside his own at the head of the table.

Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the toxic display of masculinity and sat down in the empty seat beside Stiles. Naturally Scott and Allison were sitting as close as humanly possible without someone being able to accuse them of copulation.

Stiles thought that one of them might drop dead if they were separated by more than three feet at any given time.

He was surprised to find that Kate Argent had taken the other available head of the table. 

Everyone began to help themselves to the food on the table. It was a veritable feast; roast potatoes, leg of lamb, three different salads, four different rolls, and a vegetable stir-fry. Stiles almost wished that he had been invited over for a real dinner with the Argents, as opposed to it being a convenient cover whilst executing a heist.

"So," Smiled Kate, eyeing Jonathon predatorily while spooning potatoes onto her plate. "What were you two whispering about out there?”

Chris glared at his sister over his wine glass and cleared his throat loudly before either of them tried to answer. “Scott,” He said, changing the subject, “I hear you're on the lacrosse team?”

Scott's attention snapped to Allison and Alex's father, swallowing his mouthful of food and trying to make his widened eyes look normal. "Yes, uh, sir. Stiles and I are both on the team.”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically, his cheeks puffed around a large mouthful of his dinner roll.

"Scott is one of the star players." Allison boasted, putting her hand on Scott's forearm supportively. “You should see him play - it’s incredible.”

"What about you, Stiles?" Victoria was carving the lamb, wielding a knife that was probably bigger than his leg. Stiles heart rate sped up at how easily she wielded the sharp blade. Suddenly his mouth was very dry and he struggled to swallow.

"I keep the bench nice and toasty." He joked averting his eyes and grinning with unease. 

Looking around the table at everyones solemn faces he realized that no one had gotten his joke, or if they did, they hadn't found it the slightest bit funny. His grin melted and anxiety bubbled around in his stomach.

For some reason he felt a rather pressing need to have these people like him.

"Tough crowd." Alex said, into her glass of water, letting out a snort of laughter.  
Stiles felt a wave of gratefulness for Alex in that moment.

"How are your grades, Scott?" Asked Chris. 

The question seemed innocent enough but there was a warning edge to his voice that was menacing. Stiles was just glad the line of questioning was being directed at someone other than him.

"Wow, Chris." Laughed Kate, leaning back into her chair with her glass of red wine pressed to her bottom lip, covering an amused smirk. ”Ease up. It's dinner, not the Spanish Inquisition.”

"Speaking of the good ol' Inquisition," Alex interrupted the tension between her father and Aunt, "Stiles and I have some studying to do.”

"I thought you were studying English." Kate asked, with her eyebrow raised and a suggestive smile on her face. 

The Argent family seemed like masters in the art of double meanings, Stiles had noticed. There was one conversation happening on the surface, but a completely different one going on just beneath it. If you blinked, you'd probably miss it.

"It's called a segway, Kate." Alex explained, feigning exasperation and standing up from the table, pulling Stiles with her as she went. "Let's get to studying, Stilinski.”

"Thank you for dinner!" He called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand that was not being held in a death grip by the girl who was dragging him through her house again.

He called a few more pleasantries over his shoulder about the food and how glad he was to have been invited. Alex’s grip got tighter on his arm, her fingernails digging into his flesh.

"I'm actually sweating." He said to Alex, wiping his forehead. “Is your family always that . . . ” He struggled to find that right word, “intense?”

“What the hell was that?” She whispered harshly.

“Huh?”

“ _‘Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Argent.’_ ” She was imitating his voice rather poorly - going higher in octave rather than lower and he tried not to feel emasculated. “ _‘The food was fantastic, Mr. Argent.’_ Even though you hardly ate anything - OH! My personal favourite - _‘Is there any other part of your body besides your ass you’d like me to kiss?’_ ”

“I don’t think I said that last thing.”

“You may as well have.” She grumbled dragging him down a dimly lit hallway and stopping in front of a large door. She entered in a series of different pass codes before it clicked open. "I was seriously considering fashioning a noose out of napkins." She drawled, swinging the door open and closing it swiftly behind them. 

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes but the tips of his cheeks were tinged pink.

He hadn’t exactly been trying to kiss their asses, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have her parents like him - even they were rather terrifying.

"If her bullets will be anywhere, they'll be here.” Alex stated, her earlier irritation gone as swiftly as it had arrived.

Stiles looked wide eyed around the garage and barely heard her through the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. 

Guns. 

Lots and lots of guns.

A few other impressive looking blades and bows joined the array of firearms. They were fastened with sterling silver clasps to sprawling metal grating that lined the perimeter of the room. 

Each of the four walls seemed to be dedicated to one type of weapon, his eyes snagged on one that housed swords of different lengths, girths, shapes. The pommels on each one were identical - polished silver with a depiction of a wolf, a sun and a chain. 

The guns took up the most space and Stiles didn't think he'd ever seen so many which was strange given his dads occupation. 

This wasn't a garage, this was an arsenal.

"Holy shit." Was all he could manage. " _Now_ I'm sweating.”

"Dab it off, Princess," Alex commanded with all of her usual charm. "There should be a large metal box, about," She used her arms as a measurement, "this big. The bullet inside will have the Argent Crest on it.”

She gestured to the garage door which was painted with a mural of the same design that all the sword pommels had.

"How modest." Stiles commented, dryly.

They spent a few hurried minutes rummaging through anything and everything they could get their hands on. 

Stiles actively avoided touching anything that looked too dangerous, the last thing they needed was to be caught because he'd accidentally fired an automatic weapon or cut off one of his toes. He was surprised when he found a large metal box matching the description that Alex had given him hidden beneath a trove of silver arrow heads.

"This looks promising." He lifted it up and Alex walked over to him, lifting it out of his hands and shaking it around. The contents made too much noise for his liking and he peered at the garage door cautiously. "It's locked." He added, for her benefit.

"'Locked' is subjective for an Argent." She said, removing a bobby pin from her pocket. "Never leave home without one." She smiled, focusing her attention on inserting it gently into the lock.

"I thought that only worked in movies." He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as she worked away, "Really lame movies-" He cut himself off when the box lid popped open with a nearly silent 'click'. Alex flashed him a grin that had his palms sweating again.

"Got it." She teased, tossing the small bullet at him, which he clumsily dropped. It rolled to his feet as they both watched, Alex with humour in her eyes and Stiles looking slightly embarrassed.

He was constantly surrounded by supernatural creatures these days. Derek Hale, Dr. Deaton (who was so obviously more than he pretended to be), and Scott, his best friend in the entire world, with whom, he had never spent more than a day apart from. Yet, he never felt more inadequately human than when he was with Alex Argent.

He scrambled to pick up the bullet, holding it in between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it around absentmindedly.

"You'd better get that to the clinic," Alex said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. "Not that I particularly care about Derek Hale, but he'll be dead soon.”

"Right." Stiles said, snapping his attention back to the reality of their situation.   
With his luck, they'd be caught standing in the garage with a bobby pin sticking out of a once locked box of werewolf killing ammo. "Thanks, Alex. Let’s do this again sometime." He grinned at her eye roll, which held none of her usual contempt and let her lead him out of the garage.

.

Thank god her dad wasn't here.

That's all she had to say about about this profoundly shitty situation.

Lydia and Jackson had been attacked tonight, presumably by the Alpha and she had been sent so they had eyes on the situation.

It was getting more ballsy. Prowling around a video store was poor form as far as Alex was concerned.

She had shown up just before the police arrived, hidden by the cover of the trees. Across the parking lot Lydia was in a fit of hysterics while a handful of police officer’s tried and failed to calm her down while Jackson bitched unrelentingly about wanting to go home. He hardly seemed to care a lick about Lydia’s mental state.

She also saw Stiles riding with his dad in the Sheriff's squad car. Of course he'd be here - which meant that Scott probably wouldn't be far behind either.

Then, as if on cue, she spotted a familiar mop of dark, messy hair on the roof of the video store. The scope she was using allowed her to see that he was not alone, a second figure stood with him and they seemed to be conversing with a sense of familiarity.

With learned agility she scaled the side of the building, avoiding detection by the officers on the scene by sticking to the trees, and using the fire escape. When she lifted herself over the side of the building Derek and Scott noticed her immediately. 

Scott was getting much better at using his new abilities.

 _Gone were the days of sneaking up on him_ , she thought.

"Derek," She greeted, "Good to see you up and about," She scanned his face and he growled, "and grumpy." She finished with a light smile she knew would bother him to no end. "What's with the attitude?" She inquired, moving to stand beside them. "You should be licking my boots right now. You think Stilinski found that wolfsbane bullet on his own, or do you just have more pressing things to lick?”

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Asked Scott, only briefly switching his attention to her from the crime scene below.

"My job." She deadpanned, gesturing to her all black attire. Black yoga pants, matching black sports bra. Standard hunting gear. What the hell else would she be doing here? "I'm trying to find the motivation behind this attack. It's incredibly strange to me, because no one has been in a video store since 1990. Honestly," She continued, "this is probably where I'd hide during the zombie apocalypse.”

"Stop talking." Derek demanded.

"Stop brooding." Alex countered.

"Stop flirting!" Said Scott, staring between them, obviously annoyed. His lopsided jaw had a noticeable tick in it.

"I just threw up in my mouth." Alex cringed, "Thanks, McCall.”

"The Alpha is trying to get Scott's attention." Derek explained, "an Alpha with no pack is barely an Alpha at all.”

"So, it's watching you." Alex concluded, turning her head to fix Scott with a stare. "It knows, that you know Lydia and Jackson.”

"Why are we trusting an Argent?" Derek cut her off, "They're sneaky, manipulative-“

"Just because Kate tore apart your little prepubescent heart-“

"I'll rip out your tongue, hunter.”

"I'll have fun watching you try, Cujo.”

"Shut up!" Scott demanded, "We need to leave before the police tape off the area. Besides, you two need to be separated.”

.

_Allison Argent 9:34am: Skipping the day with Scott. Take notes for me._

Alex replied with a quick, no bullshit: _Happy birthday._

She knew Allison hated her birthdays - it was a point of contention because she was a year older than everyone else in their grade. Because of their constant relocations, Allison had fallen behind early on in her school career and, as a consequence, had been held back.

Allison would never admit it, but it was another reason that she held a small flame of resentment towards her sister. Alex had learned to make herself scarce on this day every year.

"So," Said Stiles, popping out of nowhere, as per usual. "Jonathon looks old. I mean, older. Experienced." He fell into step beside her on their way to homeroom, it was a routine that had developed over that past couple of weeks.

"The question being . . . ?" She rolled her eyes as a couple of jocks began to rough house in the middle of the hallway. Alex didn’t bother trying to swerve around them like everyone else, instead walking right through their crude version of Fight Club and purposely knocking one in the shoulder.

He skidded a few feet and turned to obnoxiously cat call her. She cringed and flashed him the finger, continuing on her way.

"I just noticed that he wasn't terrible looking." Stiles said, glaring at the back of the jocks head as they passed.

"I'll ask if he's interested.”

"What - no, I'm not-" He stopped when he heard her tinkling laughter. "You suck.”

"Relax, Stilinski." She said, walking through the familiar door of their homeroom class. "He's just a family friend. What’s it to you, anyway?”

They took their seats and Stiles immediately turned right around in his seat to face her. His cheeks were pink at the tops and his eyes were darting around nervously.

She stared blankly.

"Did you hear about the attack last night?” He asked, ignoring her question.

“Yeah." She said, lowering her voice and leaning in closer towards him. "I was there. I saw you and your dad." Then she added, "And your love affair with curly fries.”

He spluttered out a few unidentifiable syllables and she looked at him oddly.  
"You seem to be having more problems than usual today." She commented, pulling her books out of her bag.

"You were there last night?" He questioned, trying to remember if he'd done anything embarrassing in his dads crusier.

"It's kind of my job to be there." She set her books on her desk and eyed him curiously.

"You have to tell me these things!”

"Right," She started, an amused smile playing at her mouth, "Emerge from the darkness of the forest, tap on the Sheriff's car window and announce my presence.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll keep that tactic in mind the next time I’m ready to, you know, die.”

"What if I had started picking my nose and eating it, and you saw!" He gestured wildly as if the mere thought caused him discomfort.

Alex snorted, "Do you pick your nose and eat it, regularly?”

"No, never-" He said quickly, but stopped mid sentence, "That's not the point.”

"Do you ever have a point?”

"The point is that Lydia isn't here today and I think we should go to her house after school and see if she saw anything.”

Alex nodded once, impressed. She noticed the empty desk beside him and got up out of her seat, toting her things with her.

"I think that's a good idea.” She complimented, sitting down in the empty desk. “When do you want to go?”

Normally he would have latched on to her praise, but he was too thrown by her sudden change of proximity.

"That's Scott's seat." He said stupidly.

"He and Allison are ditching." She shrugged.

"No one tells me anything.”

.

When school ended, Stiles was waiting for Alex outside her last class. They rode to Lydia's in the Jeep while he complained that there had been a 'cool secret meeting on the rooftop of a crime scene that no one had invited him to'. He was still complaining when they knocked on Lydia's bedroom door, accompanied by her mother.

"She took something to help with her nerves." Her mother explained when they walked in on a clearly dazed and confused Lydia Martin.

"Like what?" Alex asked sarcastically, "Opium?" She walked over to the bed and sat down, holding one of Lydia's limps arms in her grasp and letting drop. 

Deadweight.

Lydia's mom glared at Alex momentarily and then turned her attention to her heavily sedated daughter, tapping lightly on her shoulder. "Lydia, honey? There's an Alex and a Stiles here to see you.”

"What the hell," Lydia slurred, "is a Stiles?”

"I've been asking myself that since I moved here, Dollface." Alex said, peering down at Lydia as her eyes cracked open.

"Not too long, alright?" Mrs. Martin demanded, "She needs her beauty sleep." 

Then she left, closing the door without another word.

"How are you feeling, Lydia?" Asked Stiles, tentatively.

"I feel fantastic." She slurred, her eyes were drooping as though it was taking a considerable amount of effort to keep them open.

"Yeah, I bet." Alex commented, examining the prescription bottle by her bed. "This is some serious shit." She unscrewed the lid and let one pill fall into her hand, which she then shoved into her pocket.

"Alex." Stiles chided, a warning edge to his voice.

"What?" She shrugged, "You don't mind, do you, Lyds?”

Lydia responded by snoring loudly from beside them.

"This," Stiles gestured to the petite strawberry blonde asleep in her absurdly pink bed, "is useless. She didn't see anything and even if she did, she won't remember it now thanks to her mothers elephant tranquillizers.”

"She's definitely more amicable when she's asleep." Alex commented, standing from the bed and patting Lydia's head with a fondness shining in her eyes.

"Funny," Stiles started, "I've said the same thing about you. When you passed out at school because of your back alley stitches." Alex turned to glare at him but she found only a warm gaze. "You like her.”

"No," She crossed her arms, taking a step away from Lydia's bed. "I tolerate her. I tolerate _all_ of you.”

"I don't think so." His tone was teasing but it was grating on her nerves. "You care about Lydia Martin. Honestly," He continued, obviously having no regard for his own physical safety, "Scott and now Lydia. You're a marshmallow.”

"Shut up, Stilinski." She said, but there was no anger in her voice, it was almost pleading. He seemed to take the hint and decided to change the subject. "I've been trying to reach Scott all day, he really should be here.”

"It's Allison's birthday, she usually skips the day because she's an old hag." Alex shrugged, walking towards the door. "Scott's with her, they'll probably be gone a while.”

"Why does she skip her birthday?" Stiles asked, following behind her and down the stairs.

"She's a year older. We're sisters. Not twins." She explained, "It doesn't make biological sense, unless I was adopted, that Allison and I would be the same age - in the same grade.”

Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment, like he should have figured that out at some point.

When they were back in the Jeep and backing out of Lydia’s absurdly large driveway Stiles groaned in frustration and Alex looked over at him expectantly.

"I can't believe those morons skipped on parent teacher conference night." Stiles said, revving up the Jeep. "Totally going to get busted.”

"Parent teacher . . ." Alex trailed off, "Oh, shit!”

"What?" Stiles asked, slightly alarmed. Even the slightest bit of overreaction put him on edge these days, now that he knew of the supernatural world he was half expecting the tooth fairy to fly into his room at night and asphyxiate him with a piece of floss.

"My dad is going to lose his mind." She elaborated, "I have to call her.”

"Good luck," Was Stiles' sarcastic response, "I've tried, like, three hundred times, both of their phones are off.”

"Are you kidding me?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air, much like Stiles might have. "There's an Alpha running around town and Scott turns off his fucking phone?”

"Thank you!" Stiles shouted, in full agreement with the fiery blonde. "I'm going to kill him.”

"Not if I get to him first.”

"Team effort?" He supplied with a small smile.

"I usually work alone," She smirked. "But, sure, why not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone awesome response to this story and my other The 100 Bellarke One Shot I posted a weeks or so ago.
> 
> I appreciate the feedback and the love!


	8. Part Eight: You Owe Me an IOU

Stiles and Alex had scoured the neighbourhood until the last possible minute after their excursion to Lydia's. Scott and Allison were either deliberately hiding or Alex was having an off day - she hadn’t needed to put her tracking skills to good use in a while as the werewolves around here didn’t seem to care much about being discreet.

Alex had decided, a few hours before the parent teacher conferences that their two wayward charges were more than capable of suffering the wrath of their parents if they were caught and so Stiles had turned the Jeep around.

When he pulled into her driveway the sun was just setting over the horizon. Alex sat, unmoving in the passengers seat, debating her next words.

“Stilinski,” She started, eyes fixed ahead. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Stiles’ eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I’m just going home.”

Alex shook her head. “I mean when you and Scott go traipsing around in the dead of night.”

Stiles didn’t have anything to say at that so Alex continued.

“This is getting messier by the second.” She let her shoulders slump slightly. “The Alpha attacked Lydia - in public, it’s getting either antsy or stupid and in my experience both are a votive state for a werewolf to be in. I know you and Scott have this, _Thelma and Louise_ thing going for you, but he’s a werewolf, Stiles, if he gets injured he can heal - but you . . .” 

“You’re not asking me to sit this out, are you?”

“No, I’m asking you to be careful.” She fixed her gaze on him and let a sliver of her worry shine through in her eyes. He matched her gaze with even more intensity and she tried her best not to feel uncomfortable under it.

“I will.” He nodded once and then jumped out of the car and raced over to the passenger seat. Alex watched him curiously as he stopped outside of her car door and smiled at her from beyond the window. She rolled her eyes as he struggled to wrench the door open for her, yanking hard on the door handle before holding up one finger at her and mouthing, 'one second.’

He leveraged himself by bracing one foot against the Jeep and pulling hard. Eventually the door swung open with a rusty sounding groan and Stiles barely managed to right himself after nearly toppling over with the momentum.

"Do you need a ride to parents night?" He asked breathlessly, putting the outstretched hand he’d offered her back to his side when she ignored it and hopped out of the car on her own.

"It's parent teacher conferences, Stilinski," She eyed him like he was ridiculous, which he was, and continued. "I think I'll ride with my _parents_.”

“Right." He shook his head with a goofy smile. "Yeah. See you there?”

"Probably." She said offhandedly, throwing a casual wave over her shoulder and walking up the steps to her house.

He didn't make a move to return to the Jeep until she closed her front door behind her.

Alex dropped her bag in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and sighed, letting the stress of the last few days manifest as a headache and settle behind her eyes. 

The only silver lining to any of this was that Lydia remained oblivious to the supernatural goings on in Beacon Hills. It was a blessing she hadn’t recalled the attack and if Jackson’s privilege behaviour with the police officers that night, he didn’t see anything either. It was one less issue she had to deal with and one less lie she had to tell.

"That kid is a total downgrade from Jonathon." Kate's voice echoed in the entryway and Alex opened her eyes just so she could roll them as she slipped off her boots. "I mean, he's cute, sure, but he looks like he'd keel right over if he ever saw a tit." There was a cruel smile on her angular face and Alex barely gave her the pleasure of looking at it.

"Has anyone ever told you how 'Dateline NBC' it is to sexualize underage boys?" Alex commented, walking over to the fridge and peering at its contents without really even looking.

"I'm just saying," Her aunt continued, unaware of or ignoring the fact that Alex wasn't in the mood to talk to her, "He might grow up in all the right places, but Jonathon is the one I'd be getting under.”

Alex recoiled when Kate put a hand on her shoulder, she closed the fridge door and fixed her aunt with an unrelenting look of pure boredom. "I can give you his number.”

"I already have it." She countered, picking her nails with a steak knife. ”Your dad wants to talk to you in the garage.”

"Thank God for small miracles." Alex muttered, turning on her heel and making a swift getaway.

.

"Is Allison here?" Chris asked when she stepped through the door of the garage.

"No." She replied, hoping that would be the extent of the questioning on Allison's whereabouts.

"Good." Was his distracted response. He was intensely cleaning the barrel of one of his hunting rifles and avoiding eye contact. "Kate caught Derek Hale last night.”

Alex paled immediately and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What?"

"He's in the warehouse." He looked up at her now, "Kate's been trying to get answers, but we need you to take a watch shift tonight.”

"Hold on a goddamn minute." She strode confidently towards her father, rage shining in her blue eyes, "I thought we decided to prioritize. Not for Kate to go fucking rogue.”

“Language."

"Fuck that.”

"It doesn't matter now. She caught him. It's the biggest lead we've had in weeks." He tried to reason with her but it was obvious they were beyond that. Kate had disobeyed a direct order and she couldn’t let that slide without looking weak - but she couldn’t throw a tantrum without garnering some suspicion.

"Don't tell me to take lead next time if you're just going to steam roll me when I actually make a judgement call." She said, a perfected icy glare on her face. "I'll take the watch.” She turned on her heel to leave. ”Don't forget about parent teacher conferences tonight.”

When Alex stepped out of the garage, heart pounding and a thin sheet of guilty sweat clinging to her forehead, she nearly screamed in frustration when she saw Kate leaning casually against the wall in the hallway. Her hands were on her hips and she was smiling like she was the apex predator.

In Alex's humble opinion, that specific smile only looked good on _her_ face.

She brushed by her aunt without a word, heading to her room so she could put on some jogging clothes and take her frustration out on the pavement. The best way Alex knew how to combat stress was either, drinking or running. If she were to choose the former, she knew she'd be completely and totally fucked for the conferences and her watch later that evening.

Alex audibly groaned when she thought of Derek Hale strapped to the metal grating, electricity being constantly pumped through him. The bloody bastard was liable to tell Kate or her father everything about Scott. About how Alex knew and had been helping them avoid capture. She'd seen how her family had tortured the shape shifters. Hell, she'd done it before. She had seen how they cracked under the pressure, begging for mercy. One simple second of reprieve. Derek was no different.

Then she thought of Stiles. Poor, human Stiles. Would he get hurt in the crossfire? And Allison, would she miss Alex when her family killed her and covered up the murder under the guise of an animal attack?

"Shit," She concluded, "This is bad.”

.

What was the point of coming to these stupid teacher parent meetings if the kids weren't even allowed to partake in the conversation happening about them?

The anxiety is probably why, nearly all of Stiles' limbs were nervously tapping against any available surface they could find. His father wouldn't have any problems with his grades at all. 

It was the behavioural stuff, especially lately, that had him worried.

His nervous eyes scanned the hallways and when they landed on Alex, all of his limbs went stiff. She was walking in Beacon Hills High’s front doors with her mother and father, he noted that she looked angry. Ultimately though, she looked beautiful in a light green dress that made her look otherworldly.

Which wasn't so hard to believe in this godforsaken town.

His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth and he focused on trying to swallow when she dropped into the seat next to him. She didn't give so much as a wave to her parents who were being ushered into the English classroom.

"Nervous?" He asked, mistaking her anger for something different. He couldn't focus on much else besides the fact that when she had sat down her hand rested so close to his that he felt the heat radiating from it. He could almost imagine that she was holding his.

"For a whole other reason than this stupid bullshit." She muttered, glancing around with her signature unimpressed look dancing across her face. Alex passed him her flask, "You're going to need this.”

He took the object, but did nothing with it besides hold it still in his hand. He looked at her with the obvious question burning in his eyes and being held on the tip of his tongue.

"My aunt has Derek." She said, distraught and staring into space, as though if she concentrated on nothing for long enough, she might fade into it herself.

"What do you mean, _has Derek_?" Stiles questioned slowly. Alex could tell by his tone that he was trying not to freak out.

"I mean," She stressed, "That Broody Brows is currently locked in the Argent version of a torture chamber, and I'm pretty sure Kate isn't making him tea.”

They were both staring into space now as Stiles removed the top of the flask and discretely took a healthy chug. He coughed as the foul-tasting liquid slid down his throat, burning as it went. She'd gone for the hard stuff tonight, tequila.

"What do we do?" He asked, handing her back the flask. Alex had been just about to hold her hand out for it and nearly smiled when she saw that he'd already read her mind. "Scott is still MIA and Derek is being tortured by your psychotic aunt.”

"I have a watch tonight." She said, smoothing her dress over her legs, Stiles watched with mild fascination. "I can't just," She paused to let out a frustrated sigh, "let him go. My family would know something was up. No one escapes from The Warehouse. Fuck, this is so bad." She tipped the entire contents of the flask into her mouth and swished it around for good measure. 

"If Derek talks," She continued, "I'm dead. Scott's dead. Derek's dead. You too, probably." She added at his surprised face, "You're a sympathizer.”

"I'm going to ignore the 'Nazi Germany' vibes that are running rampant in this conversation and ask what your plan is." Stiles had turned fully in his seat to face her, "Please, tell me you have a plan.”

"I don't." She said honestly. "My family knows how to get the information that they want. Kate could already know what we've all been doing these last few weeks." She laughed a humourless laugh that sounded so hopeless it scared Stiles. "It's what I deserve.”

"What you - What you deserve?" Stiles questioned as though she was being absurd, "What are you talking about, Alex?”

The mention of her name caused her to whip her head to the side and fix him with a look he couldn't quite place, "I've been lying to my family since I got here, not to mention to Allison - my entire fucking life," She began to talk in a frantic whisper, "This is what happens when you ally yourself with the enemy. I knew this was a terrible idea when I first saw that fucking wound on Scott's wrist, but I just had to assuage my own guilt-“

"Your guilt?”

“Scott is just a kid! A dumb little kid in over his head. How was I supposed to kill someone who hasn’t even lost their virginity yet! It wasn’t fair - but I shouldn’t have questioned the rules.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “It was so easy to see that he and Allison had a connection. You’d have to be blind not to see it was the closest thing I’ve ever seen to love at first sight. I couldn't take that away from her. I thought that if I could help her have the high school dream that maybe I wouldn't feel so bad about the fact that our entire relationship is a fucking lie!" He could see the tears burning in the corners of her eyes and he wanted to reach out to her. Comfort her. Assure her that everything she was saying was simply fear. "And now, I’ve disgraced The Code. For what? My sisters feelings? My feelings?”

"Alex, look at me." Stiles demanded, taking on an assertive tone that surprised himself. He grabbed both of her hands that hand been scratching at the bare skin of her exposed thighs and held them still. The skin where her hands had been wreaking havoc was red and angry.

"You can figure this out. Whatever happens, we will all protect you." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "I will protect you. Scott will protect you. But we won't need to. You don't need protection, because you will figure this out. I don't know why you decided to help Scott in the beginning, maybe it was guilt, but I know you. You're protecting him now because you see what I see; a leader, a good person with a huge heart." He stopped and added with a small smile, "Hopefully, I have something to do with you being on our team, because to be honest, I'm pretty fond of you." He squeezed her hand a little tighter, "You'll figure this out, and you'll probably do it with a smile and a buzz.”

Alex was surprised that she had a ghost of a smile resting on her face.

How had he done that?

How had he made her feel less out of control with a few simple words?

"There she is." He said, removing his hand from hers. He wasn't sure how long she was going to let him get away with that anyway.

Alex found herself feeling rather embarrassed. She never lost her cool demeanour, or when she did, it was always when she was alone. Never in front of anyone. She had always been taught that it was weakness to show emotion like that.

But, looking at Stiles, she didn't feel weak.

She felt strong.

.

Sitting with Stiles had seemed to put Alex at ease.

Since learning that Derek had been captured she could shake the horrible feeling growing at a break neck speed in the pit of her stomach. She felt like her whole carefully constructed world was crashing down around her and all she could do was stand there at watch as everything burned.

Somehow, this kind-eyed, spastic boy had talked her off of the ledge and had her laughing only minutes after she'd been ready to hang herself out to dry.

Alex had never really had the time to make friends, mostly because she knew of a world that most could barely dream of. It was a relief to find someone who knew that the things that go bump in the night weren't always things, but creatures. It was refreshing to have that same person also be human. She felt extreme gratitude towards the boy sitting beside her, not that she would ever tell him that, but some part of her hoped that he felt it, none the less.

Soon enough the adults began to filter out of the classrooms, some looking disappointed and some looking pleased. Alex wasn't surprised, some of these people had raised neanderthals.

Stiles and Alex both stood from the bench when her parents approached them. Stiles waved his father over, who had filtered out of the same classroom.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Argent.” Stiles' smile was wide. "This is my dad, the Sheriff.”

"Ah, Stiles, nice to see you again." Chris smiled and shook Stiles' hand. Alex rolled her eyes, Stiles was a parents wet dream and it was clear as he enthusiastically shook Chris’ hand.

Kiss ass.

Chris then turned towards Noah Stilinski with his hand extended and they began the mundane introductions while her mother stood there with a fake smile plastered to her fake face.

"Stiles was a pleasure to have over for dinner the other night." Chris said, making the obligatory small talk.

"He certainly wouldn't shut up about it." The Sheriff joked, nudging Stiles playfully, "Alex this, Alex that." Noah smiled with all of the same warmth that Alex recognized in Stiles, directly at her. "You must be Alex.”

"Nice to meet you, Sheriff." She said politely, using a certain smile that she saved for people of authority.

Stiles groaned with his head in his hands, embarrassed by his fathers antics.

"Dad, we should probably leave. Right now. So you can ground me because of whatever Coach told you." He rushed out, eyeing his dad and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. The Sheriff smiled at his son with a teasing lilt to his mouth and turned back to Alex’s parents.

“We’d love to return the favour and have Alex over for dinner one night.” The Sheriff was obviously enjoying his sons discomfort.

“Considering we’re new to the area, we’d love to have you and your wife over for dinner one night.” Chis’ eyes roved over the Sheriff’s left ring finger and the pristine wedding band that adorned it.

Stiles stiffened beside her and she flicked her gaze towards him, he was no longer embarrassed that his father outed his waxing lyrical about her, now he was distinctly uncomfortable.

The Sheriff cleared his throat, “My wife passed a few years ago.” He clapped Stiles on the shoulder with a strained smiled. “Just us now.”

Alex watched Stiles intently, she hadn’t realized that he had suffered a loss that great. He had never shown any of the tell tale signs that most people who knew that pain usually did. Now, it was clear - the slump to his shoulders, the glazed eyes and the clenched jaw. She almost reached for his hand.

“Ah, well.” Her mother had never been very good with the concept of empathy. “Then just the two of you will come for dinner sometime.” She gazed at her watch in an attempt to exit the conversation that she obviously found off putting. "We should head home, too. Where Allison must be, we need to have a little chat with her.”

The trio of adults led the way, walking ahead of Stiles and Alex who trailed behind.

"Just so you know," Stiles said, wringing his hands nervously as they trailed behind their parents. ”I'm not constantly talking about you, you know, like my dad was saying.”

"I like your dad." She said, changing the subject for his benefit, "He reminds me of what you'll be like when you're older."

Stiles’ steps faltered and she looked over her shoulder to where he had stopped walking. He was smiling with one raised eyebrow.

"So, you'll like me when I'm older?" He stated.

She stared at him for a moment before a small smile took her by surprise. She rolled her eyes and reach out to grab his arm and pull him forward. He laughed and allowed her to drag in out the front door.

The chilly night air hit her bare arms with unrelenting force, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the screams that echoed in the parking lot and the handful of people running for the safety of their vehicles.

Something was prowling around between the cars, growling loudly. The people who had made it safely to their cars were now revving their engines and reversing recklessly into crowds of people. Without thinking about it, Alex shifted her dress to withdraw her throwing knives and moved to step in front of Stiles, who apparently had the same idea because he'd stepped in front of her and held her body behind him protectively.

"Stiles," She growled, trying to maneuver around his lanky form.

He wouldn't budge.

Then, a lot of things happened all at once.

Chris Argent shot one very well aimed bullet at the animal. However, the combination of the gunshot, wild animal, and general terror, caused a pedestrian trying to navigate around the madness to accelerate his car directly towards a crowd of screaming people.

Alex briefly saw Allison’s face shrouded in terror in the crowd before she lost her in the commotion. Alex broke free of Stiles' hold, and tore down the steps of the school trying to get to her sister. She pushed and shoved people violently out of her way as she shouted her sisters name, the desperate calls lost in the chorus of screams of students and parents.

There was a screech followed by a dull thud as the vehicle hit a body. 

Alex felt a warm hand slide into her as the whole world which had been moving so fast only moments ago, slowed to a crawl. Stiles looked down at her and pulled her through the crowd and letting her use him as a battering ram. 

Alex felt an indescribable sense of relief when she found Allison had been pulled safely out of the way by Scott who was holding her shaking form in his arms.

Sheriff Stilinski had not been so lucky.

The older man was sprawled on the pavement, his arm bent at an unnatural angle and Stiles drew a terrified breath before rushing to his fathers side, throwing himself to the ground.

"Dad! Dad!" He yelled desperately. His breathing was heavy and erratic as he demanded that someone call an ambulance.

Alex knelt down beside him, attempting to put a comforting hand on his back, but she was terrible at giving comfort in sensitive situations and the gesture ended up being an awkward pat on the shoulder. 

She cringed at how much she reminded herself of her mother in that moment.

Stiles moved to cradle his father but Alex had seen injuries become worse, tenfold, when the victim was moved even the slightest.

She flexed her hand on his shoulder. "Stiles," She said gently, knowing how to remain calm in a crisis, "Don't move him, okay?”

He looked up at her with a pained desperation in his eyes and eventually shoved his head into the crook between Alex's shoulder and her neck. He wrapped his arms around her middle and she let him. Alex put her hand on the back of his neck, pressing him further into her.

"Stiles," Groaned a voice, rising above all the other chatter and whispers around them, "I'm fine.”

Stiles removed himself from Alex's embrace and stared open-mouthed at his father who hissed in pain when he tried to sit up. "Oh Jesus, dad, are you okay?”

"Just got the wind knocked out of me is all." He made another attempted to move and his face contorted in pain. "You know, on second thought,” He said with a hint of a smile, "I think I'll hang out down here for a while.”

.

Alex crept down the halls of The Warehouse. This place had always creeped her out. The dimly lit hallways that echoed with every footstep and seemed to constantly hum with thrumming of electricity. It was dark and dank and held some seriously fucked up memories from her childhood.

The place was deserted, not a person or creature in sight, as was the norm during a night watch. The night watch shift consisted only of sitting in a very uncomfortable chair and trying to pretend that seeing someone (something, her father would amend) in constant and unbearable pain was a typical Tuesday night.

When she entered the room she exchanged no pleasantries with Will, the man in charge of the voltage coursing through Derek Hale. He simply set the dial, nodded as Alex took her seat and slipped quietly through the door she'd come in from.

Derek looked up at her but had the sense to keep his mouth shut until Will had, presumably, left the building.

"'Bout fucking time." He said through clenched teeth. He was naked except for his boxer briefs, usually they were able to keep their pants and left with a little dignity, but Alex suspected that Kate was fulfilling some raunchy kink she had.

Alex rolled her eyes and said, "Not my fault you got captured. I don't work on your schedule.”

"So, what?" He growled, eyes flashing blue. "You going to leave me here?”

"That's not what I said." She put a hand on her hip and made a move to turn the dial on the large machine next to her, down to zero. Derek made a feral sound when he felt the relief.

"That's all you needed to do." He sounded tired, on the brink of death. "My strength will come back in a minute.”

"No," She said, coming to stand directly in front of him. "I need to know what you've told Kate.”

His met her eyes with a terrifying intensity that she supposed was meant to scare her. Derek Hale didn't scare her. Her family scared her.

"Who do you think I am, little girl?”

"Not the brightest bulb in the box, that's for damn sure." She matched his stare with one of her own that she hoped rivalled his. "Why is it, that I'm always the one saving your ass, _little boy_.”

He sighed, clearly too tired to continue their usual banter and Alex found herself a little disappointed. "I didn't tell them anything.”

"Good." She said, not letting her face show just how relieved she was. "Now, considering how many times I've saved you from another untimely death, I think you owe me a favour."


	9. Part Nine: Codeine

The stress of the last few days had finally caught up to Alex. 

She was currently facing one of her most hated enemies, the common cold. Another reason for her to consider the concept of High School as abhorrent, herding mass amounts of teenagers together in the same building was asking for trouble. She had witnessed Ernie Nichols swapping spit with his flavour of the week in the art classroom three days ago and when he removed his tongue from Hannah Murdoch’s mouth to gulp down some much needed air he proceeded to sneeze into his hand and promptly continue is tongues ministrations on Hannah’s tonsils.

Teenagers were cess pools of germs and hormones, so it was no wonder she had woken up a few days after helping Derek escape feeling like she’d been run over by a bus.

She tried to lift her hand to her face to rub at her sore eyes and found that her arm was aching and she could barely move it, her entire body was an aching mess of limbs and she groaned in her frustration. The morning light burned her eyes and she burrowed beneath her covers in a pathetic escape attempt.

The space between her eyes and mouth became home to an uncomfortable pressure and a headache was fast approaching, its arrival made more swift when the annoying alarm on her cellphone began to chime.

She managed to hit the snooze button a few times instead of tossing the damn thing at the wall as she had wanted. 

The door to her room swung open and her fathers voice carried across the room from the doorway and under the covers of her makeshift cave.

“What happened?” She was unsurprised to find no trace of fatherly concern.

“I’m sick.” She rasped, her voice offending her own ears. “In fact, I might actually have the plague.”

She felt awful.

The door swung shut and almost immediately afterwards her phone alerted her to a text. She blindly reached around until her hand found her cellphone on her nightstand and she snatched it up, pulling it beneath her warm covers.

_Chris Argent 7:46 : Quarantine in your room until the incubation period has passed. You know your mother or I can’t sick._

She rolled her eyes and then squeezed them shut at the pain behind them that accompanied it.

_Chris Argent 7:47 : I’ll leave the usual supplies outside your room._

The usual supplies included, but were not limited to a cocktail of prescription pills. The idea behind drugging her up was a logical one; they put her in a codeine coma and let her sleep it off. She spent a few days blacked out from a medley of cough syrups and pills and was back in fighting shape in no time.

Her mother found her later that afternoon sprawled out in her bed, under the covers, hallucinating and talking in tongues at the ceiling. 

"Alex?" She questioned into the dark room, her tone unusually soft. Alex tried to sit up and look towards the direction of the voice but her head felt fuzzy and she couldn't be sure where her mother was, or if she was even there.

She tried to form words but couldn't be sure if anything that had just come out of her mouth was coherent.

"She's had a lot of cough syrup." Explained her mother. Was there someone else in the room? "It doesn't agree with her.”

There was a shuffling of feet and tentative hand on her forehead.

"Alex, honey." Came her mothers sickly sweet voice and Alex pictured her mother covered in honey and bees with a wicked smile on her face. "Stiles is here. He came to drop off your homework.”

Alex cracked open a eye, a lazy smile on her face. Stiles would never be covered in a swarm of bees.

Stiles peered down at her and concern flashed on his features. She was pale and half unconscious with a red nose but he noticed that despite being obviously sick, she looked more well-rested than he'd ever seen her.

"I'm going out." Said her mother, annunciating every word carefully to her drugged up daughter. "Call me on my cell if you need anything." Alex knew that loosely translated to: don't fucking bother me. Victoria slipped out of the room and closed the door quietly.

"How are you feeling, Xena?" Said Stiles, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Alex groaned out a greeting that was muffled by her blankets and the fact that her mouth didn't seem to be working the way she wanted it to. "I brought you soup." He held up a hand that was holding a suspicious looking paper bag.

Her eyes focused in on him and the lazy smile that hadn't left her face all day was making him feel warm. He set the soup down on her bedside table and appraised her. She was bundled up in a large hoodie that was at least two sizes too big, her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy ponytail that hung over one shoulder, save for a few strands that had slipped out of the tie. Her nose was bright pink and he was pretty sure he'd never seen anything so adorable in his entire life.

"I, uh, also brought you flowers." He managed to stammer out. He laid the flowers he had spent too much time in the grocery store picking out, next to the soup. Alex watched him as he did with glassy eyes.

"Why?" She questioned curiously, tilting her head.

"Because," He paused. He wasn't sure what reaction the gestures would elicit from her, but he wasn't expecting, 'why?'. "I don't know, they're pretty." He shrugged, feeling like he'd been put on the spot and a little moronic. "Leave it to you to be the only person on the planet to not understand why someone would give you flowers.”

"Do they have medicinal properties?" She slurred, eyes half closed.

"No," Stiles let the word draw out, "They're just supposed to make you feel better.”

He looked around the room before his gaze settled on the variety of pill bottles next to the soup he had brought. He picked up one bottle and whistled.

“Looks like your mom and Lydia’s took the same Mommy and Me classes.” His eyes scanned the label and then he carefully set the bottle back where he found it. She wanted to laugh, or offer up a witty retort but her brain wasn’t working fast enough and her tongue felt like a pasty brick between her teeth.

Alex tracked his movements and smiled dazedly up at him. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the bed, right beside her curled up form. He felt like he couldn't breath when she reached up and put a clammy hand on his cheek and mumbled, "They make me feel great - the pills and the flowers. Want to watch my sick movie?”

Stiles peered down at the girl, who looked so much different than he usually saw her. She looked small and frail, like she could melt into her bed sheets with the smallest exhale of breath. Sometimes, he hated how Alex made him feel. It seemed as though he had no control over it. In a town full of supernatural entities, control over anything was hard to come by for someone who didn't have super strength or speed.

Some days, he hated her. She was stubborn and hard headed. Constantly putting herself in danger and working herself too hard, never accepting help from anyone. He couldn't count the number of times he had extended his hand to her, to help her up, out of a car, only for it to go ignored.

There was a metaphor there somewhere, he just didn't want to look too hard for it.

Some days, he admired her. She was strong and agile, seemingly indestructible. She was all daring ideas and facing impossible odds. He often imagined her staring down at the world while it burned, a causal smile on her face.

Some days, he envied her. She was skilled and trained, with an uncompromising sense of inevitable victory. Most days, he was scared to leave his house, scared to leave his dad alone, scared for Scott and their friends. Scared for Alex.

Some days, he wanted her. Sexually, because he wasn't blind, of course. However, it was more deeply rooted than just desire. He wanted her close to him in proximity, he wanted to know where she was, what she was doing, and how she felt. He found himself, more often than not, forcing himself to put down his phone after his thumb had hovered over her name on his phone screen for far too long, just because he wanted to ask about her day.

Everyday, he choked down his debilitating adoration of her.

She had made it clear that she was interested in nothing more than finding the Alpha and protecting her family. It was the only reason she had even given him the time of day in the first place. If Scott had never been bitten in the woods that fateful night, Stiles would have fallen prey to another stupid infatuation that involved nothing more than longing stares and unanswered greetings on the school steps.

He remembered how he had pinned for Lydia and how she had been so untouchable. Stiles couldn't pin point an exact moment when his love for her had faded, but he was deductive enough to know that it probably started the minute he saw Alex walk into their homeroom class, hands on her hips and staring rebelliously at anyone who dared make eye contact. The difference between Alex and Lydia (though, there were many) was that, unlike Lydia, Alex had actually let him into her world. Maybe he'd forced his way in, but the point was moot. He was there. Alex was not untouchable, they'd talked about their lives, their trauma's, their fears. He'd comforted her and she'd saved him.

He was in her world and there was no way in hell he was going to give that up now that he'd seen just how brightly she shone in his.

So, he sat down on her bed, a fluid smile on his face that felt like it belonged there when she was near, and said, "Your sick movie is Pride and Prejudice?”

She had turned on the television and the menu lit up the screen, a classical song playing softly and then building to an impressive crescendo. His teasing remark was lost in a soft breath of air that left his lungs when she curled closer into his side, pressing as much of herself into him as she could manage.

"Shhhhh," She whispered into the fabric of his shirt, "Don't tell anyone.”

"I won't." He promised, carding his hands absentmindedly through her hair as the movie began to play.

.

Alex woke up with approximately zero recollection of the past two days. She also woke up to Allison gently poking her face as her long brunette tresses tickled her nose.

"Wow," Her sister smiled teasingly, but with a relieved warmth. "Both eyes open, clear and focused. You're actually looking at me.”

"Was I that bad?" Alex asked, her voice gravelly with sleep. She sat up in her bed, pushing the covers down to her waist and rubbed the crust from her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this rested.

"You were high as a kite for two days." Allison laughed, tucking her long curly hair behind her ear. She was dressed and ready for school, looking particularly put together. "Mom and dad weren't kidding when they said that you react badly to cold medicine.”

"I remember fuck all." Alex said, reaching a hand to her hair. It was matted to the side of her face and she tried not to think about what she must look like. She ran her tongue over her teeth and was not surprised to feel a layer of fuzzy plaque and she cringed.

"I'm not surprised," Allison got up off the bed and began searching through Alex's closet. "You were a total zombie." Allison threw a few articles of clothing on the bed: a floral long sleeved dress, and a light denim cropped jacket. "You're coming to school today.”

Alex agreed wordlessly by standing from the bed and collecting the clothes Allison had picked out. She began to walk towards her bathroom to shower when she noticed a vase full of light pink and white flowers on her bedside table.

"Did you get me flowers?" Alex asked curiously, stopping to inspect them. They were beautiful. Useless, but rather lovely to look at.

"No." Allison sang and Alex could hear the smile in her voice. "You don't remember Stiles coming by to see you?”

"Obviously not." Alex growled out, feeling embarrassment bubbling in the forefront of her mind, the insinuation was clear. Stiles had seen her while she was in a perscription induced haze? He had brought her flowers? "How did he even know I was sick?”

Stiles' little thing for her was starting to get out of hand. She didn't have time to fend off some little dweebs hormones, she had a town to save.

"I asked him the same thing after I got home." Allison sat down on her bed. "I came up to check on you after school." Allison’s face looked positively evil when she began speaking again, "I found you asleep on him, in your bed, halfway through Pride and Prejudice.”

Allison was fully laughing at Alex's horrified face. She ran a hand through her knotted blonde hair, wincing when she ripped relentlessly through a tangle. She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, "I told him about my sick movie?”

Allison nodded. "You told him about your sick movie.”

Alex felt embarrassment and nausea claw at her chest, it might not have seemed like a big deal but Alex wanted to kill something. Why had he come here? Why had whoever had been home let him in? Why had anyone let her have access to that stupid DVD?

"Oh, come on." Allison prodded, "It's cute. You two are cute.”

"Shut up, Allison." Alex spat out, anger lacing every word, but Allison didn't notice.

"Apparently," She continued, oblivious to Alex's fists clenching painfully at her sides, "He harassed the front office when you weren't in homeroom.”

"So much for confidentiality." Alex said bitterly. She began to plan an elaborate scheme to throttle whatever stupid mouth breather was working in the office that day.

"Oh," Allison laughed, "They didn't tell him anything. He left the office, then dialled Mrs. Hendrix's number and pretended to be from a towing company."

Mrs. Hendrix. RIP, bitch.

"When she ran out of the office, he snuck back in and hacked into her computer. He looked you up, and I guess there was like, a reason code or something. It said you were out sick and then he showed up here with soup and flowers." She sighed, "I nearly died when Scott told me. The boy has it bad, Alex.”

"I can't listen to this." Alex stated, effectively ending the skin crawling conversation and slamming the door to her bathroom.

.

Alex felt much better after washing off two days of sickness and the conversation she had been subject to early that morning with Allison. She changed into the dress her sister had picked out for her and was finally beginning to feel like an actual person again. She was pleased when she only had to use a quarter of of her usual amount of concealer.

She was sifting through her locker before class thinking idly about what supernatural shit she'd missed while she was down and out. She closed the locker door and nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Stiles' smiling face lurking behind it.

"You need a fucking bell." She breathed out. Normally, it would have taken a lot more than that to startle her, and she wondered briefly if she functioned more efficiently with no sleep at all.

"I brought you the notes you missed." He had an easy smile on his face as he extended a rather abused looking notebook to her. Pages were falling out and the entire thing was bent in a way it surely hadn't been when he'd purchased it. It was labelled, 'School Shit.’

"I can use Allison's." She said cooly, realizing that she sounded dismissive when his face fell. "You hacked into the school mainframe?" She questioned, changing the subject while she leaned causally on her locker.

He had the sense to look slightly embarrassed, but he leaned beside her and shrugged, "Mrs. Hendrix's password was her dogs name." He explained, "There was a picture of him on her desk," Then he finished with a pleased smirk, "With his name written in foam letters on the frame.”

Alex let a laugh escape her despite her efforts to remain icy towards the boy.

"It was too easy." He smiled at her and she felt the sincere words of thanks on her lips, but she refused to let them past. "Shall I walk you to class?”

"I'll walk you." She ammended.

"Figures." He snorted, pulling himself of the locker and falling into step with her.

They walked through the hall, taking the familiar route to the their homeroom class when he smiled and side eyed her, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"So, Pride and Prejudice, huh?" The statement was followed by a loud groan of pain after she had shoved him into the nearest bank of lockers.

.

"Come on Alex!" Chris demanded sternly as she tried to dodge another blow, failing miserably before his fist collided with her ribs.

She tried to catch her breath as a mangled groan of pain burst from her mouth. She stumbled as she tried to right herself before another one came.

"Where is your head?" He yelled, coming at her again, aiming a round house kick at her temple. She deflected by crouching low and his leg sailed over her head, missing her by mere inches. She did a sweeping kick, directed towards his ankles and he fell backwards with a laugh, "There she is.”

He picked himself up off of the ground, leaping into a defensive position. She hadn't realized that he'd backed her up into a fallen log and he took the opportunity to crowd her so she lost her balance and crashed to the ground. She barely had time to register that she was on her back before her fathers large combat boot was pressing dangerously hard on her windpipe.

"Always take inventory of your surroundings." He scowled, "What is wrong with you? You know this stuff. You're better than this." He stepped off of her and she gasped with the pain as oxygen crashed into her lungs.

Alex laid on the ground, dejected and defeated. They'd been at this for hours, sparring since dawn and all she had accomplished was getting her ass kicked over and over. She had bruises forming on every inch of her skin, a busted lip and now a boot imprint on her clavicle.

She had tried to reason with herself that had they been training with knives or guns, maybe she could have held her own. She could put up a good fight using hand to hand combat, but her knives were an extension of herself at this point. It didn't help that after two days of being bed ridden, her muscles felt like they had atrophied.

Despite that, she doubted she could have put up a decent fight anyway, her head just wasn't in it. Nothing felt natural, her moves felt forced and mechanical as opposed to fluid and flowing, this only made her frustrated.

"Get up." Her father demanded and she did as she was told, pulling herself up from the ground, every bone in her body protesting. "You can run home." He stated, tossing her knife holsters at her feet. They hit the dead leaves that had fallen onto The Preserve ground and she winced as she bent over to pick them up, feeling humiliated.

Ever since Derek Hales 'escape' from The Warehouse, her entire family had been on edge, her father the most. He seemed to be taking out his frustrations on her when they trained, delivering blows with too much force and looking at her with too much disdain. If she didn't know any better, she'd have presumed that he knew she had had something to do with it.

Alex buckled her hostlers to her legs, arms and chest, cursing as she did. Her father was gone, probably basking in the warmth of the SUV. She frowned recalling the days training, she had totally sucked. Her father was right, what the hell was the matter with her?

Eventually, she took off at a standard pace, it was about five miles back to her house and she estimated that the jog would take her a little under an hour. The leaves crunched underneath her feet and she could hear her own breathing. Alex hated running without headphones, it was too quiet and gave her thoughts more freedom to rumble around in her head, garnering more of her attention. She preferred blasting some serious EDM.

The sun was starting to set and she ran through the rapidly darkening forest, proving to be more challenging than usual. When she emerged on to the main road she was relieved to have made it out unscathed.

Relatively unscathed, as she was pretty sure her father had cracked one of her ribs.

She was passing the entrance to the school when she heard it. A sad whining emanating from what sounded like the school intercom.

"The hell?" She muttered to herself, picking up her speed and veering towards the school. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard something far more menacing this time.

A howl.

It shook the ground she stood on and a tremor touched her spine sending warning signals to her brain. Warning signals that told her to run home as fast as she could, so naturally she did start running.

Right towards the school.

"What a fucking moron." Alex said out loud into the dark parking lot she was sprinting through. 

She came to a stop when she saw Stiles' Jeep and fought back the urge to scream, what the hell was he doing here? The kid had a death wish. As she approached the Jeep she noticed that it looked like someone had tore apart the hood, and upon closer inspection she noticed the wet red stain on the pavement, dripping from the backseat.

Blood.

She surveyed the area which was eerily quiet and tried not to think about how that was almost always a bad sign.

Suddenly, one the back exits burst open, the metallic sound of the heavy door echoing through the parking lots expanse. Stiles stumbled out with his wide brown eyes staring directly at her and panic etched into every line on his face.

"Alex!" He screamed, a sound that terrified her. "RUN!"


	10. Part Ten: Night School

Alex didn't have to look behind her to know what had spooked Stiles and she began sprinting towards him, somehow being able to tap into some remaining strength her dad hadn’t beat out of her.

Her anger fuelled her movements. Anger at Scott and Stiles for being so idiotic as to try something as dimwitted as luring the Alpha with Scott's call. She had recognized the plan for what it was as soon as she had seen Stiles' Jeep in the parking lot.

As she ran for the door to the school she could hear the pounding of beast behind her and it was gaining. She leaped and slid to her knees just as the alpha lunged, missing her by mere inches. She watched with wide eyes as the werewolf sailed over her and skid to a stop, landing in front of her and effectively blocking her path. The gravel from the pavement had made quick work of her leggings and tore at the skin on her knees. She had landed in a heap only inches from the steps where Stiles was urging her to move her ass.

She'd barely found her centre of gravity before she felt hot breath sniffing at her legs.

It's long cylindrical snout sniffed her her bloody legs and bared it's teeth. They were long and yellow canines that nearly matched her arm in size. They were razor sharp and the terrifying visual spurred her into action. She put all of her power into one well aimed kick to the beasts head and when she jumped up from under the shapeshifter she threw one of her knives haphazardly behind her, hoping to buy herself some time.

Stiles grabbed her outstretched hand and he pulled her roughly through the open door and into the building. He used his entire body to slam the door shut without so much as a glance behind him.

"Definitely thought you were a goner." He panted, wrapping his arms around her, to which she angrily shoved him away. "We think it killed Derek."

"What the hell are you two doing here?" She glared, hoping that it covered her wince of pain. She didn't have the brain capacity to deal with the issue of Derek being dead or not so she filed that away mentally.

She felt like one giant wound. "You," she directed her heated gaze at Scott who had appeared in the hallway, "Are supposed to be picking up Allison, not traipsing around the school. You may as well have paged the Alpha!"

"Who uses a pager anymore?" Scott muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Well, obviously," Stiles drawled, sarcasm lacing his words, "We ran into some issues."

"Can it, Stilinski." She snarled. "You two are absolutely, without a doubt, the dumbest-"

"What happened to your face?" Stiles interrupted, invading her personal space to get a closer look at her busted lip and bruised jaw.

"Training session." She shrugged, her anger melting away.

Scott and Stiles shared a horrified look that was lost on Alex.

Suddenly, from above them a set of great thumping footsteps was heard booming overhead and all three looked up with wide eyes.

"Looks like we have company." Stiles whispered, eyes wide with fear.

"Go, go, go!" Shouted Scott, ushering Alex and Stiles down one of the corridors. Stiles ran ahead trying desperately to open several doors along the way, all of which were locked. He disappeared around a corner with Scott hot on his heels.

He must have finally got one open because he shouted something from the next corridor, however Alex had become preoccupied with something strange in the hallway.

A smell.

It was as if the chaos and terror of the situation they were in, completely melted away and she held no sense of urgency to escape the immediate threat.

She slowed to a walk.

Scott and Stiles had long disappeared as she gazed around the empty school. She was blindly following the smell that seemed to call to every nerve in her body. It was metallic and coppery which Alex knew not to be a traditionally nice smell, but she hardly cared because it was intoxicating.

Her slow, purposeful footsteps echoed in the empty halls and curiously enough she found herself standing in front of the double doors leading to the library.

The smell was emanating from this room, she knew, and she wasted no time throwing open the doors and surveying the room with wild eyes. The library was dark and dim, she could just barely make out the aisles of books and the large front desk. She walked further into the library only noticing just then the chill that had settled over the room.

She walked down every aisle, all lined with books of different shapes and sizes and when she came to the last row of books in a dark corner of the library she knew she was getting close.

In the far recesses of her mind she wondered why this section didn't seem familiar. Why the rows of dusty old books she had never seen before were here now. When were they added and what the hell kind of language was that?

She ran a finger across the spine of each book and she continued her steady, deliberate steps and when she received a shock from one of the books, she yanked her finger back with a surprised jolt. She peered down and glared at the text as though it had personally offended her.

The title was in another language, one she was not familiar with, but she did recognize the symbol on it. It was a Wiccan symbol, one she didn't remember ever seeing but somehow she knew it was a symbol that meant life. Or what Wiccan's equated to life.

Translated to English, it mean something more sinister.

Blood.

She hesitated before touching the book again, not wanting another shock, but unable to curb her curiosity. She placed a tentative finger on the spine for the second time and she felt nothing.

Perhaps she'd imagined it.

Alex removed the book from it's place on the shelf and with it, displaced a cloud of dust. She held it in her hands and flipped it over, examining every inch of it's surface. It felt heavy in her hands, too heavy for just a book. She ran a finger over the worn cover, tracing the strange title.

_Eaque Missio Sanguinis_

She opened the book, flipping to a random page and scanning through the strange Wiccan symbols. She hissed when the old paper sliced her finger and blood from the paper cut gathered to a small droplet on the tip of her finger. She watched in fascination as it dripped onto the worn page of the old book.

She cursed, putting her finger in her mouth and wiping the small drop of blood from the page. 

She flipped to the next one and studied the other side hoping that her blood hadn't ghosted onto the next page, but was surprised to find that, in the exact same spot was a fresh drop of blood.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she wiped it off a second time.

She flipped the page and found another fresh spot of blood.

There was something wrong here. A strange tingle in the back of her mind told her that something was off about this place, about this strange section in the library, but the longer she stared at her blood on the book the more the feeling seemed to ebb away. She flipped through more pages and found that the drops of blood continued to appear the further she delved into the book.

Nearly one hundred pages in, she turned the page and noticed that the drop of blood was missing. She ran her thumb over the place where the blood should have appeared and scanned the words.

_congregem cum execratione maledicta congessit_

_vas autim praevaricator_

_item concilium transferre cum execratione maledicta congessit_

A chill ran down Alex's spine as she mouthed the words her lips feeling strange around the old language. She felt a sudden urge to drop the book and leave. Whatever had made her forget her fears about this place earlier was no longer influencing her, so she dropped the book and jogged to the end of the aisle, emerging from the small confined space and into the larger expanse of the library. She breathed a sigh of relief when nothing seemed strange or out of place to her.

The familiar tables lined with computers and the chairs tucked meticulously underneath them sat in front of a large window that looked out onto the lacrosse field.

She stared out the window for a moment, it was dark outside but something was wrong with the landscape. She squinted her eyes and moved forward a couple of steps.

That wasn't the lacrosse field.

"What the fuck?" She whispered.

Outside the large window visible only in the glow of the moonlight, were large rolling hills covered in grass, for miles. The hills led to a cliffside where the land met with the sea and the waves were crashing against the side of the steep drop.

She backed away from the window, tripping over the leg of the chair because she was unable to tear her eyes away from the scene before her. She landed with a dull thud against the library floor, mouth still agape.

She snapped it shut when an eery realization made her hair stand on end.

The waves that hit the cliffside weren't moving, the clouds in the night sky remained stationary as though she were peering at a simple picture.

Her breath started coming in short gasps as she tried to reason with herself.

It was too quiet in here.

The longer she stared out the window, the more she began to realize that she wasn't supposed to be here. There was something else she had been doing here. Something more pressing than an impromptu trip to the library. What had it been? She stood up and walked backward towards the double doors that lead back into the hallways, and hopefully back into reality.

The moment the doors to the library closed and she was standing in the hallway, two doors down from her English class, the fog lifted from her brain. She felt like she had been in a dream.

Why had she gone in there?

Screams from down the hallway sounded and she snapped her head in the direction of the main foyer. It reminded her of what she was doing here in the first place.

The alpha.

She took off at a sprint and when she turned the corner she stopped dead in her tracks. Scott and Stiles were looking sweaty and out of breath as they stared at a new trio of people; Lydia, Jackson, and Allison.

Allison immediately ran to her sister, stopping to stand in front of her and regarding her with careful eyes.

"Alex? Are you okay?"

"Where the fuck did you go? You were right behind me!" Stiles shouted.

"Uh, yeah." Alex responded, trying to not look as dazed and confused as she felt. She knew her eyes looked unfocused as her brain was still trying to process what had just happened to her. She didn't have time for that now, she needed to know exactly what in the hell her sister was doing here. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Well," She started, her eyes losing some of the concern, "I thought Scott texted me . . ." She trailed off and her eyes narrowed, "What happened to your face?"

Alex knew she was referring to her busted lip and bruised jaw.

_Thanks, Dad._

"You're white as a sheet, Alex. What the heck is going on here?" She put a comforting hand on her sister shoulder.

"I fell in the woods." She lied, gesturing to her running gear like it should have been obvious.  
"Why do you have those knives?" Allison continued to question her sister while the others looked on in silence. "I haven't seen you with those since we took archery."

"Alright, Twenty Questions," Alex rolled her eyes hoping to divert her attention from every fact that wouldn't add up, "Let's just get out of here, okay?"

"Yeah," Agreed Stiles, vigorously nodding his head, "This place creeps me out enough during the day."

Alex threw him an appreciative glance and turned on her heel, fully intending to lead the way out of this hell hole, when the ceiling above their heads began to shake and groan with the weight of something heavy, something that was moving.

"What was that?" Lydia questioned, her voice small and shaky. She moved to stand closer to Jackson who in turn, eyed Lydia with passive annoyance.

Scott and Stiles shared a look before yelling, simultaneously, "RUN!"

The six found themselves running towards a nearby classroom, throwing themselves through the door with absolutely zero grace.

They followed Scott's instructions and began piling furniture and chairs in front of the door.

Alex knew better. If the alpha wanted in, a plastic chair barricade wasn't going to stop it. She pulled herself into a sitting position on top of one of the desks and pulled out a cigarette from the crumpled package she'd shoved in her waistband this morning. She leaned casually over the desk she was perched on and fiddled with a bunsen burner until it flickered to life. She leaned forward with the smoke between her lips and inhaled, effectively lighting the tip.

Holy hell, had she needed this.

When she straightened back out she found herself being started at by her peers. She shrugged, uncaring of the judgement.

"Since when do you smoke?" Allison demanded, her voice edging on hysteria. Apparently Alex's bad habits were easier to focus on then the predator prowling the halls.

"Only when she's stressed." Stiles rushed out, "I'm about ready to bum one, because not that THAT," He gestured to the blocked door, "wasn't a truly inspired idea, but did you not notice the fifty foot wall of windows?"

They all began to argue, talking over one another and demanding answers but Alex had zoned out at the mention of the window.

She stared out into the dark parking lot and her eyes glazed over as the image from the library flickered in and out of her peripheral vision.

The peaceful scene of waves breaking on a grand cliff had, in fact, not evoked feelings of peace. Her mind flitted back to the book she'd held in her hands. It had felt so real - it must have been. Even the paper cut she had received still stung, but when she brought her hand to her face to examine it, there was no mark.

"Alex!" Lydia's frantic voice ripped her from her thoughts and she lowered her hands after taking a long shaky drag from her smoke.

"What?" She tried to play off her unease by sounding bored and irritated.

"I said, did you see Derek Hale?" She had a hand on her hip and her eyes trained on Alex. Looks like she wasn't the only one trying to play off her unease.

Alex switched her gaze to Scott who was looking at her expectantly.

So he'd blamed Derek.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead staring pointedly at him while hoping to translate silently that she thought he was a fucking moron. Blaming this on Derek, which she was assuming he had done, was a very bad idea.

"No." She answered honestly.

Scott raised his eyebrows at her in a silent question.

She knew enough about the supernatural to avoid doing something as dumb as assuming he was dead. The supernatural rarely ever stayed six feet under, even when you dug the grave and buried them yourself.

At some point in the confusion, Allison had come to stand by her sister and take her hand, a tell tale sign that the older sibling was scared. Alex squeezed her hand in silent reassurance.

"The janitor is dead." She whispered, "Derek Hale killed the janitor. Now he wants to kill us."

The others began to argue about calling the cops and Lydia and Jackson were pressuring Stiles to call his father. Not even Scott came to his rescue.

Stiles looked wrecked, he knew, just like Alex and Scott, that it wasn't a serial killer out there beyond the door, it was a freaking werewolf. A werewolf that just so happened to be the size of a small elephant and had developed a taste for human flesh.

Lydia pulled out her own phone, determined to call the Sheriff herself, while Stiles looked on helplessly.

Noah Stilinski would surely be killed as easily as the poor janitor had been if he so much as stepped one foot in the high school. Jackson, Lydia and Allison were all important players in the alpha's game to get to Scott, which is why they hadn't been killed yet. The Sheriff wasn't even on the board.

"Put the phone down, Red." Alex demanded, looking menacing as she twirled a knife between her fingers in that dangerously impressive way she liked to when asserting herself.

Lydia visibly gulped, lowering her phone limply to her side. "We need to call the police!" She argued, but made no move to use her phone again.

"Alex . . ." Allison said in a low voice only Alex could hear. She obviously disapproved of her of her choice, or tactic.

Probably both.

Stiles regarded the blonde with complete adoration, grateful for the show of dominance that had surely saved his father from a fate worse than death. She nodded imperceptibly in understanding.

She returned her attention to the goings on in the classroom just as Scott finished his grand, self-sacrificing declaration.

Idiot.

.

Out of all of the people trapped in that classroom, Alex and Scott were the only ones with a chance of surviving a face off against the alpha. That fact had spurred Alex's decision to make her own stupid self-sacrificing declaration, much to Allison and Stiles' dismay.

She wasn't going to let the newborn werewolf go out there alone, and it was mostly because she couldn't take being locked in that room anymore. She would rather face down an alpha than breathe the same air as Jackson Whittmore.

"We should split up." Scott suggested at a whisper while they walked with light feet past the cafeteria. "We'll cover more ground that way. Do you have your phone?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. "Because that would make things easy."

She smirked a little when she saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a morbid smile.

"Then, we'll meet back at the classroom in half an hour, okay?"

"What if neither of us have found the keys?"

"Then we wait it out." He said authoritatively. "Together."

That seemed reasonable enough to Alex, daylight would be breaking soon anyway and she highly doubted that the alpha would continue it's wicked game during homeroom. The two parted ways with knowing glances and silent wishes of good luck.

This night just kept getting weirder and weirder and Alex tried to keep her mind focused on the task at hand, but thoughts of the library kept sneaking to the forefront of her brain. She briefly entertained the notion that she may have been asleep, as it was no secret that she rarely slept a full night and when she did, it was fitful. Perhaps the years of sleep deprivation were finally catching up to her. Or she was going insane. Either way, she had felt like she was waking from a dream when she exited the library.

She shook her head.

She hadn't noticed that her feet had carried her to the indoor pool just off of the main gymnasium. She opened the door as quietly as possible and jumped when it closed behind her, the sound echoing in the room and bouncing off of the water. The light reflecting from the pool cast an eery glow over the room and intricate patterns on the ceiling that looked more like a style choice than a trick of the light.

She rolled her eyes at herself when she stared at the water a couple of seconds longer than normal just to make sure that it was moving.

Her eyes moved over the empty bleachers and pool, wondering why her subconscious had taken her here. She avoided physical activity at school, it was the one place she didn't have to think about training. She'd only ever been here once.

She turned towards the exit, finding nothing of interest in the empty room, but stopped when something under the water, close to the pools edge, glinted at her. She walked to the edge and crouched down lower trying to get a better look.

Keys!

She peered carefully at the bottom of the pool, finding it difficult to gauge how deep the water was from this vantage point, so she stuck her hand into the water up to her elbow, grasping for them to no avail.

They keys were just out of reach, so she lowered herself down to the ground, laying on the cold tiled floor and reached her arm as far as she could, her cheek nearly touching the surface of the warm water as she grasped at nothing.

_At least it's warm,_ she thought, _I wouldn't mind having to dive into that._

She pulled her arm out with a frustrated sigh realizing that her efforts were futile. She would have to go in and get them. She stood up and shook off her drenched arm, preparing to remove her clothing. She heard the water from her arm splash on the ground, echoing like raindrops. She looked down at the red droplets that saturated the ground beneath her feet.

She did a double take.

It looked like blood.

She peered down at her wet arm and let out a frightened whimper at what she saw. Her bare arm was coated in warm, red blood where there should have been pool water.

"Just a dream." She said, slamming her eyes shut, "Just a dream."

She cautiously opened her eyes, hoping that it had been a trick of the light, or some lingering dregs of her waking dream from the library. When she did, she began to scream in absolute horror. The entire swimming pool was filled to the brim with blood, undulating and lapping at her feet.

Still screaming, she tried to back away from the nightmarish looking scene, but the wet floor beneath her feet made her lose purchase on the tiled floor sending her crashing into the pool.

She hit the surface hard, sinking to it's depths, the weight and thickness pressing against her skin. She fought against the pressure that pulled her down further, kicking her legs and flailing her arms. The viscous liquid slowed her movements and she began to panic as she sank further down. Blood filled her nose and unable to hold her breath it filled her mouth. She painfully inhaled it into her lungs and soon after was enveloped by darkness.

As her eyes closed, she dreamt of bathing in blood.


	11. Part Eleven: Alex

_"Alex!"_

_Blood stained the side of the white ceramic bathtub she was in._

_"Alex!"_

_It coated her skin as she scooped up a handful of it and poured it over her head, wiping away the excess that had gotten in her eyes._

_"Alex!"_

_A rubber duck floated by in the viscous liquid._

_It turned it's head and squeaked at her, blood dripping from it’s eyes and mouth._

_"Alex!"_

**Alex**

Two days had gone past since we'd been trapped in Beacon Hills High and just as many since I'd had a decent nights sleep.

I was going insane. I was sure of it.

I'd woken up the night after the school incident with my legs covered in scratches. Deep groves that pulsed with pain every time I moved, I must have inflicted them on myself because my nail beds had been caked with blood. So had my sheets. I had to wash them twice to get out the stains.

The second night I'd dreamt of blood. It seemed to be a recurring theme for me lately. I'd woken up screaming bloody murder and scared Allison to within an inch of her life - thankfully with my parents bedroom situated in the opposite wing of the house, they hadn’t heard the commotion I’d made.

That was why Allison had insisted on sleeping with me last night, and also why I had a boney elbow wedged in between my third and fourth rib. 

I groaned loudly with irritation and with the intention of waking her up. 

If I wasn't sleeping, neither was she.

The events at the school had taken it's toll on everyone who had been there, not just me. Allison seemed to be taking it especially hard. She'd broken up with Scott because she knew he was lying about something. Allison may have been kept in the dark for years by our family about our family - but she was still an Argent. We were perceptive little fuckers.

I think she knows I've been lying, too. Sometimes I catch her looking at me with skepticism in her dark brown eyes, the same haunting look that she had given Scott before he’d left the Chemistry classroom with me. It scares me because I know she's going to put the pieces together soon. I would be stupid to underestimate her. It's only a matter of time.

Allison stirred beside me and stretched out, like a cat.

"G'morning." She mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. I was jealous. "How'd you sleep?"

"Ask your elbow." I said in a practiced lazy drawl.

"Sorry." She smiled sheepishly, fully opening her eyes. When she did, they widened, "Oh, Alex . . ."

"What?" I questioned the motherly tone she was taking with me and I felt a little self conscious as her eyes roved over me.

"You're bleeding." She said, standing from the bed to get me a tissue and she sighed. "Again."

I looked down at my body, half obscured by the sheets on my bed. Allison was right, I'd scratched at my legs again, reopening the barely healing wounds. The broken skin stretched from my knees all the way to my hips and the wounds were screaming at me now that Allison had mentioned it.

At least there wasn't as much blood on the sheets this time.

We began methodically stripping my bed in silence. Allison had questioned me about what had happened to me at the school that night, she was getting worried about how it was affecting me, but I had curbed every attempt she made to get me to talk about it. It seemed like she was accepting that I wanted to keep it private. But I saw the looks of concern she'd been giving me in between those looks of skepticism.

The problem was that I didn’t want to think about what had happened. I have seen so many impossible things in my life and yet what happened at the school was something I wasn’t ready to wrap my head around.

It felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to start.

We were in the process of shoving everything in the hamper when our dad walked in, without warning, as per usual. He looked down at what we were doing and then back up at us with a raised eyebrow.

"Allison wet the bed." I laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as I thought it did. Allison hit me lightly on the arm muttering, 'did not' as I slid my legs out of view by standing behind the bed.

The only time I had mentioned the events in the school to Allison was when I’d asked her not to tell dad about the unconscious self harm I was apparently inflicting on myself and the nightmares that plagued me nearly every waking minute. I felt like it would cause more problems than it would solve if he knew.

He would ask questions I didn’t have answers for and then send me on a mission to figure it out.

Allison hadn't liked the idea but she'd agreed nonetheless, she'd also had more questions than I'd been comfortable with but I fielded them as best I could.

"I think you two should stay home again today." Dad said, ignoring the bed wetting comment and crossing his arms over his chest. "It's Friday, anyway."

"I don't want to, dad." Cue Allison’s legendary pout.

I rolled my eyes at her back, I knew exactly why she was so anxious to get back to school. She wanted to see Scott sulking around first hand and get proof that he was as miserable without Allison as Stiles had been reporting.

"I'll stay home." I pulled at the hem of my sleep shirt.

"How did I know you'd snatch up that offer." My dad smiled in a paternal way that may have been real, but I never really could believe it.

"This is me, not looking a gift horse in the mouth." I drawled, busying myself with stripping the pillowcases.

"Well, I just want you two to know that you don't have to go if you don't want." 

Dad had been beside himself after the events at the school, pulling me immediately into the garage after he’d come to pick us up from the school, hot on the Sheriff’s trail. Scott’s proclamation that Derek had killed the janitor held firm with the police but my dad had more in-depth questions to ask.

He and my mom had been furious that Allison had nearly been exposed to our world and had allowed both of us to take as much time as we needed off school to heal emotionally - or whatever crap they spewed to placate Allison’s fragility.

He smiled indulgently at us both. "I'm going to work. Oh, and you have a visitor. Come on up, Mr. Stilinski!”

Stiles stepped into view scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Thanks Mr. Argent.” He said, making room for my dad to exit my room. He called out a few more goodbyes on his way down the stairs and eventually out the door.

Stiles shuffled into the room with his eyes downcast and I stifled a laugh. Stiles Stilinski, the pinnacle of awkward.

"Come in, Stilinski." I offered, smoothing my hair down, wondering how tragic I looked. "You can help me convince Allison to ditch school with me and piss on the sanctity of education."

"Sounds fun." He chuckled, "Though, I did come here to convince you to come to school."

Allison smiled like she'd won a prize.

"Well," I drawled, "How about I invite you to ditch with us?" I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands, sporting a huge fake smile. Stiles' eyes flickered down to my scratched legs and his gaze roamed over them. I stiffened with the realization that I'd forgotten to keep them covered. 

I was surprised when he didn't say anything and smiled at me instead.

I looked to Allison with a raised brow, the ball was in her court.

"Fine." She said after a moment, shaking her head like she was babysitting a pair of two year olds. "What are we going to do anyway?"

I patted the expanse of the bed beside me so Stiles would take a seat and I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Get drunk."

.

It didn't take much to convince either Allison or Stiles that this was the perfect way to spend a parentally sanctioned ditch day.

I texted our dad telling him that we were going to go hiking to clear our heads and when I didn't receive a response I figured we'd been given the go ahead. The three of us piled into Stiles' Jeep and I threw the duffle bag I'd packed with slutty clothes at Allison. She dodged it and glared at me.

We all had fake I.D's, but Stiles' was pretty shitty and he blushed when told us that it hadn't worked for him yet. So we decided to try our luck in the next town over, with tight little bandage dresses as our security blanket.

When I made that joke as I showcased the dresses on the hangers before I packed them, Stiles had made a weird choking sound and muttered something about it not being a very warm blanket. I packed them anyways.

Stiles was blathering on in the drivers seat about how boring school had been since we'd broken in. I watched Allison's face and muscles stiffen when he mentioned Scott's name.

I feel bad for her.

I feel bad for Scott, too.

Hell, I feel bad for me.

I’d gotten too good at keeping secrets from Allison but Scott had next to no experience keeping his secret from anyone. In fact, there were probably too many people who knew his secret. Scott wasn’t used to the lying, the constant threat that the important relationships in your life are going to blow up if you aren’t careful.

His relationship with my sister had, and she was suffering greatly for it.

Getting drunk today was very necessary. Except, maybe, for Stiles. He seemed to be coping exceptionally well with almost being murdered. Though, he didn't fall head first into a fifteen foot pool of blood (that actually turned out just to be pool water) trying to go after keys (that actually turned out not to have been there at all).

The nose bleeds and scratching weren't easing my mind either, so I tried to focus on whatever nonsense Stiles was talking about now.

". . . I didn't realize how much time we spend together, Alex." He said and I regarded him with a deep crease in my forehead.

"Where you going with this?"

"Nothing, nowhere." He said defensively putting his hands up, only to return them to the wheel when the car swerved. "It's just," He continued, trying to sound casual, "I just noticed, because you were gone, that I missed you, I guess."

He finished trying to explain himself and looked frustrated, like he hoped that his sentiments would have sounded better or more eloquent. I smiled despite his awkwardness, because he was being sweet.

"I'll try not to nearly drown next time we break and enter." I snorted, "Purely for your benefit."

"That's all I ask." He smiled, just a little, as the blush faded from his cheeks.

"How can you two joke about this?" Muttered Allison, who had mostly been silent the duration of the car ride. Her mouth was turned down at the corners, she was unhappy and not bothering to hide it. "Nothing about what happened to us is funny."

"I know, Allison." I said, trying to sound sympathetic and feeling like I hadn't pulled it off. I kicked my feet up onto the dashboard as Stiles glared at me from the corner of his eyes. He hated when I did that. "But if we don't laugh, we cry."

She'd done enough of that.

"Scott wanted me to say, 'hello'." Stiles said slowly, treading lightly like I was. We were both peering at her like protective parents in the rear view mirror.

Allison said nothing, looking out the window with a distant look in her eye while she fiddled with a pendant on a chain around her neck. I squinted at it with interest, noticing that it looked familiar. When Allison moved her thumb, I knew why.

"Where did you get that necklace?" I asked trying to keep the glare off of my face and remember that I was trying to tread lightly. 

I'd never been good at that.

Allison looked startled by my tone, "Aunt Kate gave it to me yesterday morning." She explained simply.

I had turned around in the passengers side to get a better look at the chain and when I sat back in my seat properly I glared hatefully at the road a head of us and remained stubbornly silent for the rest of the trip.

.

"Ow!" Allison grumbled, "Alex, you just kicked me in the spleen."

"I'm surprised it missed your big, fat head." I grumbled back petulantly as I tried to shove the scrap of a dress over my head in the backseat of Stiles' Jeep. The wounds on my legs screamed as my movements pulled the broken skin taut.

Allison was horizontal, with one foot propped up on the cars roof so she wouldn't tumble onto the dirty floor.

"Woah, Allison!" I proclaimed dramatically, covering my eyes. "That's more of you than I ever needed to see."

Allison's cheeks stained with embarrassment and I smiled wickedly.

"This was your stupid idea." She muttered, finally getting her arm though the strap she'd been at war with for the better part of five minutes. "Is he looking?"

I pulled myself up into an upright position, sighing with the effort I'd just exerted. I peered out of the window at Stiles, who we'd kicked out of the car so we could change, and also so he could keep a lookout.

"No, he's not looking." I confirmed. Stiles was faced away from us, hands shoved casually into his jean pockets and he was tapping his foot against the ground. I smiled warmly when two men walked past the car and he shuffled along the length of the Jeep, shadowing their movements so they couldn't see in the car.

When we exited the Jeep he offered us both a hand, which Allison accepted and I ignored.

"Fakes at the ready, men!" I said with a mock salute and then ruffling my hair, which I'm sure it didn't need after flailing around in the back of Stiles' rolling garbage can.

Allison had already sauntered up to the front door of the bar and I took a few steps forward to follow suit when I noticed Stiles had stopped moving to stare at me. I stopped moving to stare back challengingly.

I couldn't blame him, really. The dresses I'd picked were picked for reason. I flicked my gaze to the bar and then back to him and breezed past, shaking my head.

_Boys._

Allison's dress was far better suited for the male gaze. It fit her like a glove, though everything fit Allison like that. She was tall and willowy, with long graceful limbs, making her look like a runway model even when she was walking into a seedy dive bar and flashing her fake at the creepy door guy.

If I'd grown up with more time to be envious, I would have been of Allison. Years of training, weights and cardio had affected my body, making it curvy and toned, I didn't look anything like my sister - especially height wise. I stood at a measly five foot two.

I flashed my fake at the bouncer, an old man who looked at my tits longer than he did my fake date of birth.

The dresses must have worked because despite the poor quality of Stiles’ fake when I looked behind me after walking through the threshold Stiles was right on my heels and flashing me a triumphant smile.

I followed Allison to a table in the middle of the bar, which was fairly busy for a weekday afternoon, I felt Stiles following closely behind me, he pulled out my chair for me and I scowled at the gesture.

"I wish you weren't wearing that." He muttered in a low voice against the shell of my ear as he pushed my chair in. I turned around to scold him for thinking he had any right to comment on my choice of outfit, but when I met his darkened eyes all that came out was an embarrassing high pitched choking sound. 

I’d never seen Stiles’ look like that.

He almost looked dangerous for a moment with his eyes flashing at me, almost like they were swirling with dark thoughts that he was itching to show me.

I faced forward before I did anything else totally mortifying. I avoided eye contact with him when he sat down beside me.

I was thankful when the waitress came to the table, breaking the silence, and took our orders.

"This place is . . . nice?" Said Allison, glancing around, her attention getting caught on a rambunctious group of men hollering obnoxiously by the pool tables.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, shaking off the tension I felt towards Stiles. "This place is a pit, but that old man barely looked at our shitty I.D's, so who cares?" I declared, blowing a kiss to our waitress who had hurriedly slammed our drinks down on the table without a word and hurried off to the table of men that were snapping their fat fingers at her.

"What did you order?" Allison asked Stiles, who looked at his apple martini in horror. It was bright green in colour and the glass was garnished with an apple slice and a pink umbrella.

"I didn't think it would look like that." He said miserably, eyeing my pint of beer and accompanying tequila shots.

"Don't even think about it, Comrade." I said, with my eyebrows raised. I childishly slammed back both shots, eyes watering with the burning sensation in the back of my throat and then I licked the entire rim of my pint, just so he wouldn't get any funny ideas.

"Jesus." He said, his eyes flashing again.

I felt a tight coiling of muscles in my abdomen when he looked at me. I’d never seen this side of Stiles before - confident and brooding, his gaze was nearly territorial and I had to take a deep calming breath.

"Here, Stiles." Allison smiled sweetly, taking pity on the poor boy and switching his martini glass with her gin and tonic.

"Thank you, _Allison_." He said, all the while staring pointedly at me. I shrugged and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand trying to ignore how the introduction of alcohol to my system was making me feel warm already.

"You are so uncouth." Allison smarted, turning her nose in the air and then promptly downing the stupid looking drink all in one go.

I raised my eyebrow at her, impressed.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the sister." Stiles said with a smirk, he was only halfway through his drink.

"Apple martini doesn't fall far from a moron." I said, turning my own devilish smirk on him.

He rolled his eyes.

We ordered another round and another, and sooner or later I'd lost track of how long we'd been here and how many drinks we had consumed. I did know that we were on our third pitcher and the sun had definitely gone down.

A lightness had settled over my body and a lazy smile had become a permanent fixture on my face as we all laughed at something Stiles was saying. A shadow fell over the table and I looked up with a smile thinking it was our glorious waitress who brought drinks and didn't initiate small talk. 

I was sorely disappointed when it turned out to be another man from that same annoying table near the back. He was peering down at me with a predatory smile that made my fingers itch to smack it off his face.

"Not another one." Slurred Allison, shaking her head slowly, eyes never lifting from her newest apple martini as she’d taken a liking to the drink.

"Beat it, Mouthbreather." I said, taking my time to look as bored as possible, I even flicked my hand dismissively much to Stiles' amusement.

"How about a drink, sweetheart?" He leaned in closely, and I cringed visibly. His breath smelt sour and I may have told him as much, because Allison giggled and the man backed away from me a little. He didn't actually leave our table until I started to lackadaisically twirl a butter knife in my hand. 

Even when inebriated, I had mastered it. The silver glinted as the blade flew between my fingers and spun on the back of my thumb and the imposing man gulped audibly.

I stuck my tongue out juvenilely at the mans retreating back.

That table must have had a running bet going because that was the fifth man, in two hours that had offered to buy either Allison or myself a drink.

"He seemed nice." Stiles said sarcastically, laughing as he continued. "Why not give him a shot?"

I smiled at his ridiculousness and he smiled back. They were matching drunk smiles, ones that pulled the corners of your mouth in different directions and crinkled your nose at the tip.

"She won't give anyone a shot." Hiccoughed Allison. "Freddy Fields totally ruined her."

I smacked my hand against my forehead, "Allison, please spare the boy." I pleaded. "Fuck, spare me!"

"Allison," Said Stiles grinning at both of us. "By all means, continue."

"Freddy Fields broke Alex's heart." She explained into her pint, forming her words very slowly, "in grade five."

I groaned. I hated this story.

"We were nine years old," She started, setting the scene. "We were so excited because in grade five they did this program that, at nine years old, we thought was so cool. They supplied chocolate milk at lunch hour."

"Chocolate milk?" Asked Stiles, leaning forward across the table to listen closely.  
"I guess parents paid a set fee at the beginning of the year or something because I remember Alex begging our dad for days before school started-"

"We both did!" I shouted indignantly, widening my eyes slightly at the volume of my own voice.

" _We_ begged dad and he finally gave in. All the cool kids got chocolate milk at lunch and all of us would hangout on this one hill and drink it." She said with a nostalgic smile.

"This is such a lame story." I muttered, picking at my fingernails, but neither of them were listening to me.

"Alex found out that the love of her young life, Freddy Fields couldn't afford to join the milk program, so, she starts giving her milk to him. Everyday, for like a month." She stopped the story to take a sip of her drink and I watched Stiles' face melt with warmth at the sappy story. "I guess she was hoping that he would start sitting with us or something, but he never did."

My head was now firmly resting on the sticky, wooden table in shame.

"One day, after she gave him her milk, she followed him around the side of the school building where, get this," She paused to laugh, "Freddy was giving his chocolate milk to Lucy Glass!"

" _My_ chocolate milk." I corrected angrily, and then under my breath, "Fucking Lucy fucking Glass."

Stiles was laughing as he spluttered out, "That's terrible!"

"Apparently," Allison said, effectively continuing my humiliation, "He'd been doing it for months. So Alex, little nine year old Alex, grabs the chocolate milk from Lucy's hand, throws it on the ground, and stomps on it." Allison was howling with laughter now and Stiles had joined in.

_Lightweights_ , I thought bitterly.

"When they came back to class, all three of them were covered, head to toe in chocolate milk." She finished regaling Stiles with the story of my lost love just in time for our next round of drinks.

"So," Stiles said, still laughing as he thanked the waitress, "That was your origin story?" He was eyeing me with amusement, but also like I was something precious.

"Yep." Allison said, not realizing that he had been talking to me. "She was never the same after that." In the next breath, "I totally have to pee."

She stood from the table after her declaration and swayed a little on the spot. I made a quick move to stand with the intention of steadying her, but she glared at me, or tried to at least if her eyes would focus, "I'm fine."

I sat back against my chair knowing better than to try and help an unwilling Argent. I watched her make her way slowly through the throngs of people in search of a bathroom. When had it gotten so busy in here? I turned my attention back to the table where Stiles was focused on me with an unreadable expression.

"What?" I asked rudely, upset when my tone only made him smile wider.

"I've never heard that story."

"That's because I never told it to you." I said, like he was dumb.

"Well, why not?" He questioned, ignoring my tone. He still had that amused gleam in his eye and I wanted to kick him. "It humanizes you."

_Whatever that means._

My plan in that moment was to shake off the humiliation and unease, and focus my attentions on getting as drunk as Allison, but my tongue felt loose and I couldn't have stopped the words even if I'd wanted to.

"Allison doesn't know the full story." I said, lowering my voice and starring down at the beer moving in my glass as I swirled it around.

"Okay." It was a simple urging.

"The day I found that asshat, Freddy Fields with Lucy," I sighed, wishing that the story was as simple as Allison had remembered it, "The night before, I'd witnessed my first kill."

I remembered the night as vividly as if it were yesterday. That kind of thing wasn't something you easily forgot. At nine years old, I had known what I had been born to do. I'd started light physical training and lessons from old dusty books that were much scarier than fairy tales, the year before. One night, Kate had dragged me from my bed, which had been stocked with pink pillows and stuffed bunnies, and she took me to the Warehouse that dad had set up in Pennsylvania, where we were living at the time.

She slaughtered six werewolves that night. They had all cried and pleaded for their lives.

Kate laughed when she cut off their heads.

Stiles didn't find the same amusement with my story that he had with Allison's and I almost felt bad for ruining his happiness about how 'humanized' I'd become with it's telling.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was deciding on which words to use, or maybe he didn't know what to say at all. What he did say, however, I was not expecting.

"It must be hard not having Allison to talk to about this stuff." He said, moving his hand slowly across the table and reaching one long finger out to touch my knuckle. He looked at me like he thought I would disappear if he were to touch anymore of me. His eyebrows creased as I looked to where our hands were so tentatively connected. "It must be hard knowing you had to go through all of this stuff that she'll never have to. It must be hard not to . . . " He trailed off and I knew it was because he didn't want to finish his sentence.

But I already knew what he was going to say.

"Resent her." I finished, overcome with guilt.

I had never said that out loud.

We shared a look that I'd never shared with anyone before. A look I had seen him share with Scott.

Understanding.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net under the same name. I'm going to be reworking a few things and posting weekly.


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